


This Time Tomorrow

by between_mondays



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows, Big Brother Arthur, Brotherly Affection, Canon Arthur, Canon Era, Dungeons, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Merlin, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Naive Merlin, Original Universe, Protective Arthur, Protectiveness, Seven-year-old!Merlin, Uther Finds Out, Whump, Young!Merlin, kinda a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/between_mondays/pseuds/between_mondays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canon era AU where Merlin is seven years old, magical, and completely naive to the consequences of his actions. It's up to Arthur to save Merlin from himself, from Uther and the terrible price of being a sorcerer - before it's too late. Will Merlin get the chance to grow up to fulfill his destiny, or will it be over before it's even begun? Original-Character Arthur, kid!Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**so there my friend**

**you're in the deep end**

**just hanging on to hope by a loose thread**

* * *

Arthur's head hurt. He'd been up all night, lying awake, staring blankly at his ceiling, just thinking...and thinking...and thinking...and thinking...

There must be a way out of this. There must be. There  _had_ to be. Arthur would not let this happen, he would not, not if it was the last thing he ever did, not if Uther disowned him, not even if he had to break Merlin out himself. Arthur couldn't bare to sit around and watch this happen. No. He just couldn't.

Merlin didn't deserve this. He could only just recognise when he was actually using magic - how could he be expected to be able to completely control it? Arthur couldn't understand how Uther could sleep at night after what he had done... Arthur knew he certainly couldn't. He should have done more to stop this from happening, should have stood up to Uther, for once, should have...would have...could have...no.

No. _That wasn't good enough_. He was simply making excuses, and there was no room for excuses; not when Merlin was locked up alone in the dungeons right this second, cold, quiet, too young to understand what was going to happen to him in the morning. Arthur couldn't lay still. Had it always been this hot in his chambers? He rolled over, then changed his mind and rolled back, limbs strewn out half over the covers. He couldn't get comfortable; but then... he didn't want to get comfortable. How could he sleep, here, in his warm chambers with a mattress, plush pillows and as many blankets and sheets as he could want...when Merlin-  _Merlin..._

Arthur groaned and hauled himself out of his bed, dragging a single thin sheet with him - then walked stiffly to a cold corner of his room and dropped down on the stone floor, laying the skinny sheet over himself the best he could. His window was still open and it brought in the night air on it's cold breeze, prickling goose-bumps into life along his arms. Arthur gritted his teeth and shifted his weight, hip bones already protesting where they dug into the cold floor.  _Stop complaining._ This is how Merlin would be sleeping tonight, and so, Arthur refused to be any better off.

* * *

The hours passed painstakingly slow. Arthur ached all over like he'd never felt before, broad shoulders crying out in jagged pain, neck creaking and clicking and his entire side from his hip to his ankle hurting which ever way he laid.  _Merlin. Just think of Merlin._  But then, that was just the problem.

Uther must be blind, Arthur decided. Or mad. Or- or something. He must be - no one in their right mind would ever sentence a  _child_  to death for something like this, something they could barely control. Another wave of guilt and dread washed over Arthur as he reminded himself yet again about what was to happen in the morning, what was going to happen because he, Arthur, didn't have the courage to stop it, and was simply laying around thinking about it rather than  _doing something_.

This was absurd. Arthur jumped up, his bones aching and eyes feeling the strain of a sleepless night - but he ignored the protests from his body and started pacing nervously, bare feet padding on the floor. Arthur couldn't sleep. So he would find a way to be useful; he was going to break Merlin out of that dungeon if it was the last thing he did.

His brain whirred into action, scrambling furiously for a solution as his long, calloused fingers reached up to run through his blond hair. Now, having been accidentally revealed as a sorcerer, Merlin would be locked in the highest security cell, flanked by four to five guards at any one time. God, he wanted to scream. Merlin deserved none of this. He was just a boy, a  _boy_ , he didn't have a proper hold on his magic yet, he wouldn't have for a few more years - he couldn't die  _now_ , he couldn't, he was only seven years old, for god's sake! He would never reach his next birthday, never experience the full potential of his magic, never know what it truly felt like to have to it humming through his veins... he would never grow up to do all that he was supposed to; the Great and Powerful Warlock Emrys, and everything he was destined to become. It never failed to surprise Arthur when he used to look over at the little raven-haired boy playing in the grass beside him, or on the steps to the courtyard and remember that Arthur's own destiny couldn't even compare to the weight on Merlin's shoulders. A weight he didn't even know he had - and wouldn't know, ever, if Arthur didn't do something. Soon. He screwed his eyes tight and pushed those thoughts to the furthest point in his mind; he couldn't afford to dwell on tomorrow, and what it would bring - he couldn't afford to get emotional and lose his focus, he had to keep set on now, tonight, not get caught up in his thoughts. Thinking of any else would ruin any slim chance he had of saving Merlin.

He stopped pacing and walked swiftly over to his closet, fishing out a white tunic and his brown leathery jacket, pulling them on hastily. He had to do this. He grabbed his boots and yanked them on, then, on second thoughts, grabbed his belt and sword on his way out of his chambers. He  _had_ to.

There was no way he was going to let Merlin down.


	2. Chapter 2

**well it's never good**

**to try and play pretend**

**but maybe what's broken can start to shine**

* * *

His thoughts haunted him as he walked. He had been there, when it had happened - when Merlin had lost control, magic bursting out of him in the only way he knew how. Uther hadn't known, but then that was obvious. Gwen hadn't known, nor Morgana, neither had the rest of the royal court. But that was irrelevant. They all knew now.

Arthur felt sick. His heart was on edge, beating erratically in his chest as he raced on down the long, ominous corridors. He found himself tuned in to every last sound made in the empty hallway; the rough pacing steps of his boots against the stone sounded loud enough to wake the whole castle, his nervous breathing like a chant in his head - even his own thoughts seemed to be echoing off the walls around him...how hadn't he been caught yet, why hadn't he, surely,  _surely..._ was he really going to do this? Could he?

Arthur spotted the entrance to the dungeons up ahead of him and he shivered, realising what was waiting there, realising that he really had no choice -  _of course he was going to do this._ He couldn't  _not._

Arthur hadn't always known about Merlin's magic. He could remember the day clearly; bright and vivid in his mind - he'd walked into Gaius's chambers one afternoon to find a small, pale, raven-haired boy sitting across from the physician, who was watching the boy wide eyed...while a dusty book hovered in the air in front of them, twirling about in the space, pages fluttering open as it turned. On seeing Arthur, the boy's piercing eyes had flashed gold and the book had dropped to the ground, the sudden noise bringing Gaius out of trance as he too noticed Arthur's presence. Arthur remembered the brain numbing confusion rushing through and hitting him hard - Gaius had jumped up and hastened to explain everything to him, but he couldn't concentrate. This little boy - so young and innocent...yet to be blemished by the world's cruelty...a sorcerer? How was that even possible? That's when Gaius had sat him down, and explained - properly. Turned out that the small boy, called Merlin, had been sent to Camelot to Gaius, after his mother's untimely death, which had left Merlin orphaned and alone. Gaius had been the only remaining family he had, being an old friend of his mother's. As Gaius went on, Arthur had felt a curious feeling of empathy swelling in his chest; he himself had lost his own mother when he was very young, so young in fact - he couldn't actually remember her at all. Uther rarely talked about her, and Arthur had soon gotten used to growing up without his mother - and now that the same thing was going to happen to the boy in front of him...

He had eyed the little boy as Gaius had continued, watching as those impossible blue eyes grew wider, his ridiculous ears prominent around his pale face, and Arthur had found it hard to fear Merlin. Surely he wasn't a danger to Camelot? Arthur had carried on watching him closely as Gaius carried on. He had explained that Merlin had actually been  _born_  of magic...that he had no choice, that it was just the way he was, just part of him. That had been the last straw for Arthur. There was no way that this little boy, that  _Merlin_  could be any major threat to Camelot - sorcerer or no sorcerer...Merlin was still a  _child_.

So Arthur had agreed to keep Merlin's secret; the boy lived in Gaius's chambers, sometimes running small errands to and from the village, and soon Arthur too grew fond of the small raven-haired boy. It used to be such relief after an nasty argument with Uther or a hunt to walk out into the grounds to find Merlin playing in the long grass; Arthur would settle down beside him and watch as Merlin showed him all the things he'd discovered that day, from a butterfly he'd coaxed into his tiny hands, to talking about all the things he was going to do when he grew up.

_"Look, Arthur, look!"_

_Arthur smiled down at the boy sitting crossed legged in the grass, who held open his hands so Arthur could see clearly. A small blue flower lay in his palms, bud tightly closed._

_"Look what I can do!" Merlin frowned down at the flower, eyes screwed up at the edges as he concentrated. After a second, his eyes flickered gold and the flower slowly opened up, blue petals laying flat against Merlin's tiny hands, contrasting vividly against his pale skin. He looked up in glee at Arthur, expecting praise and compliments. Arthur knew he had been trying hard at this for weeks, and couldn't help the warmth curling in his chest as he watched Merlin's blue eyes light up at his accomplishment._

_"It's amazing, Merlin." Arthur said softly. He loved these little moments with the boy. He couldn't remember the time before Merlin had arrived at Camelot, but it could only be a year or so ago. A while back he'd got used to the closeness he had felt towards him, feeling like he should fill up the big-brother role for Merlin who had never known his family. Him and Gaius had tried their hardest to help Merlin adjust to life in Camelot; Gaius had told him over and over that he couldn't do his magic in front of anyone but him and Arthur, not ever, not under any circumstances. Arthur used to worried about him constantly, and he never stopped._

_Merlin dropped the flower into the grass beside him, and gazed back at Arthur with something almost like admiration._

_"Tell it again, Arthur."_

_"Hmmmm?" Arthur wrenched his thoughts back to the raven-haired boy in front of him._

_"Tell me about...about what we're going to do," Merlin smiled cheekily up at Arthur, crawling over to tuck his small head into Arthur's neck. Arthur sighed. Merlin always loved to hear about this; about his destiny, about Arthur's, about all the things they were going to achieve someday. He twisted where he sat to allow Merlin to lean easily on his shoulder, hand coming up to stroke the dark hair at the back of Merlin's neck. He took a deep breath._

_"One day, when you're grown up, you'll be older and wiser and amazing at your magic-"_

_"And! And, you'll be King! Won't you!" Merlin interrupted happily, wriggling in excitement under Arthur's arms._

_Arthur chuckled. "Yes, Merlin. I'll be older too, and I'll be King. And then I'll lift the ban on magic, and you'll be free to show everyone what you can do." Arthur's arms tightened round the small boy for a second. "You won't have to hide any longer."_

_"And...oh, oh tell me about the... again! Tell me about that now! About how I am...how I'll be...your_ protector _!" Merlin almost whispered the last word, his eyes widening even more as he turned his head to look at Arthur in amazement. This was always his favourite part._

_"When you get old enough, you'll be awarded a special title, just for you. One that no-one's ever had before. You'll be the Royal Court Sorcerer, the first one ever, and always the best." Arthur grinned to himself. Every time he repeated these words after being demanded to tell them by Merlin, he would remember the first time Arthur had told Merlin about this arrangement. The way those piercing blue eyes had widened impossibly, lighting up the whole room as he ran forward to hug Arthur round his legs. He would cherish that moment forever; it was his, not to be shared, only to be recalled on the dark times when Arthur's responsibility got too much._

_Arthur felt Merlin sigh and melt into his side. He didn't interrupt this time, just sat listening intently._

_"You'll be my protector, Merlin; you'll be all of Camelot's protector. And we'll fight monsters, go on quests, stay out in the woods and watch the stars, help me train my knights - you'll look after everyone." Arthur tilted his head forward to rest gently on Merlin's, feeling the warmth of his raven-hair against his cheek. "And you'll be amazing. We'll be amazing."_

Arthur wrenched himself out of his memories. He couldn't,  _couldn't,_  it hurt too much, not now...not when Merlin was still in danger. He need to stay thinking straight.

Arthur blinked. How long had he been standing here, wrapped up in his thoughts? This wasn't good enough; he couldn't afford to get sidetracked, to waste any more time. He wiped his sweating hands on his trousers and edged closer down the hallway. He pulled out and set alight one of the herb bags he always carried in his pockets, just in case. After all, you never know when you need to knock someone unconcious. Tucking his chin into the crook of arm, covering his mouth from the toxic fumes swirling off the small grey bag, he dropped it - peering carefully over the metal railings as it fell onto the ground behind the unsuspecting guards. It was only a couple of minutes before the three men had slumped forwards in their chairs, heads knocking dully against the wooden surface. Arthur let out a breath and descended swiftly down the stairs, boots scuffing on the steps - a noise that sounded way too loud in the echoey space, loud enough to rouse the sleeping castle - and reached his hand out to swipe the dangling keys from the taller guard's belt, and pocketed them.

It was dark. Arthur's small amount of vision was purely down to the yellow flickering torches which hung at intervals along the stone walls, casting long, reaching shadows down the stone. He unhooked one carefully from where it was secured to the wall, wincing when the clang and clinks of metal on metal echoed around the room. Resting his other hand lightly on the hilt of his sword, Arthur prepared himself for whatever might be waiting for him around the corner; he had a long night ahead of him, the impossible task...it was strange, Arthur thought. How the roles had reversed. How it used to be Arthur going off with a party of men, recapturing escaped prisoners and guarding them from anyone else's attempts of breaking them out - now, it was Arthur on the other side of the story, he was the one attempting this desperate, ridiculous, stupidly dangerous task...and Arthur had hardly given it a second thought.

That's when he heard it. Arthur stopped suddenly in his tracks down the cold hallway.

It was quiet, so very quiet...and the noise had been small, but Arthur still noticed it. There would never be a time when he wouldn't notice it. It was only a whimper, a tiny escaped cry muffled by an equally tiny hand, and Arthur would recognise it anywhere - it sent a numbing chill straight, directly through the heart of him.  _Wait_  - there it was again, louder this time. Arthur's eyes were wide, staring blankly at the dark that gathered at the end of the hallway, terrified of what he'll find down there. He watched his breath puff out in front of him, like smoke twisting into swirling shapes in the air. It took him a couple of seconds to convince his legs to move again, taking small nervous steps, avoiding the cracks like he used to do when he was a child.

A child.  _A child_. Merlin would never get those memories. Never look back on his younger years, laughing at how carefree and innocent he used to be. How many hours did he have left? Three? Four...five? At the most? This was it; his small, short seven years, he'll never get any older now, at least not in the way he should. He'd peaked and fallen again already, already done his last of so many things. A small cut on Arthur's face suddenly hisses out in protest as salty tears dropped down from his eyes, seeping into the open skin. Had Merlin already laughed for the last time? He...he probably had, and soon, Arthur realised with a jolt...he would be crying for the last time too.

Arthur's heart gave a lurch in his chest, pushing his thoughts to the brims of his eyes and he stumbled forward, legs hastily kicking into action as he raced down the rest of the corridor, desperate, rushing, expecting, bated breath. And suddenly it was just there, the metal bars, the dark dusty corner, the slither of navy peering in from the tiny window; Arthur's eyes searched frantically round for Merlin, breath choking in his throat when he couldn't pick out the boy's tiny silhouette. Was he too late? How was that possible? No...no...it  _couldn't_...he'd heard him, heard  _Merlin_...

Merlin.

"A-Arthur...?"

Arthur gasped, his hand jumping up to cover his mouth - he didn't realise he'd said the name out loud. He blinked, flicking tears away with his long blond eyelashes and stepped forward tentatively. Closer now, eye's adjusting to the dark, he could make out Merlin's tiny form crawled up in a corner, pale skin almost luminous in the light. Arthur let out a shaky breath and rushed forwards, trembling hands reaching out to grasp the cold bars as he pressed his forehead against the metal.

"Oh, Merlin..." he breathed, forgetting for a moment the urgency of the situation and simply reveling in the fact that Merlin was alive.  _He was alive._ Of course he was alive.

The small boy pulled his legs up in front of him, holding tight onto himself; tiny hands that were coated with small cuts and smeared with blood, grime and rust were clutching desperately at an equally dirty blanket from the cell bed. His eyes were bloodshot, sore, and they peered blearily up at Arthur as if he couldn't possibly be real. Maybe he wasn't. Arthur watched as Merlin tried to push himself up from the hard floor, winces of pain flashing across his small face each time he lent on his hands. Arthur groaned, longing to push past the restraining bars of Merlin's cell and help him - the he remembered, that was the whole point of the plan,  _you idiot_. His brain kicked back into gear, and focused on getting Merlin out now he knew he was still alive.

"Merlin. Merlin...c-come here, come on, quickly..." Arthur whispered, hastily pulling the keys from his pocket and unlocking the cell. Merlin's eyes widened even more as Arthur stepped into the cell and he rushed forwards into Arthur's arms, face screwing up as fresh tears started to fall, creating paths down his face where they cut through the dirt and blood. Arthur reached out and pulled the small boy into him, a cry escaping his lips and his own tears dripping down onto the boy's raven hair... pain searing through him when he heard Merlin's chains clink on the floor when he moved. Merlin felt so cold where his thin arms were wrapped round Arthur's thighs, and Arthur instinctively tightened his hold on him, crouching down to embrace the boy properly and kissing the small, pale forehead. Arthur could feel Merlin's tiny sobs into his shoulder, both of their tears soaking into each other's clothes and Arthur started murmuring nonsense into Merlin's neck, feeling him shake beside him.

"It's okay...it's okay, you're okay..." he mumbled, voice muffled as he nuzzled his face into Merlin's hair, hand reaching up to hold tight onto the back of the boy's head. "It's okay, I've got you, I've got you...you're going to be okay..."

Merlin's breath staggered, voice cracking as he cried and cried into Arthur's shoulder. "I'm so s-sorry," he whispered, eyes screwed up in anguish. "Arthur, I- I did a bad thing...didn't I - I didn't mean to, I-"

Arthur cut him off, squeezing him impossibly tighter, fingers raking through the raven hair. He pulled back and stared intently into Merlin's tear strewn face. "Listen - no, listen.." He brought his hands round to caress Merlin's face, gently wiping stray tears from his cheeks. "It wasn't your fault. I'm getting you out of here, okay? Come on, come on..." Arthur stood back up, taking the keys out of the lock and then knelt back down to release Merlin from his chains. Then, grasping Merlin's tiny hand gently yet firmly at the same time, Arthur led him quickly out of the cell.


	3. Chapter 3

**and you'll find**

**this time tomorrow**

**we'll decide where it will all go in this life**

* * *

Arthur's heart was pounding, pulsing his entire chest as they ran, and ran, and ran, back down the corridor, footsteps echoing where they slapped on the stone, back past the guards, but Arthur didn't lead him up the stairs, but off down a narrow corridor to the left that he knew led out to a secret exit. Only a few were aware of it's existence. He could hear Merlin's panting behind him, and he knew he was going too fast for the boy to quite keep up but they couldn't afford to slow down. Any time soon, the guards would wake up and soon realise that a certain small and magical prisoner had escaped - the warning bell would sound, and the whole castle will be on red alert looking for the boy. They had to get out,  _now._  Arthur reached beside him and held on tight to Merlin's tiny hand again, helping him to run faster, further and further down the slim corridor until they reached the exit; it was barred, locked...just as Arthur knew it would be. He quickly pulled the keys out from his pocket again, threaded his arm through the rusty, metal bars and twisted his hand round to unlock the gate from the outside. Hastily pulling his hand back, he creaked it open - ushering Merlin out into the dark as soon as the gap was wide enough. Arthur followed him through, pulling the metal frame back into place once he was safe on the other side. He locked the exit again, then placed the keys back in his pocket - Arthur was running on automatic, hardly noticing what he was doing, hazy thoughts still trying to catch up as his heart thumped loud in his ears. He took a deep breath, reaching for Merlin's hand again for some sort of comfort and it seemed to help him straighten his thoughts.

They were still out in the open; if anyone decided to look out the castle window, they would be in full view, or if a guard came round the corner, or...or- they simply weren't safe here. Arthur surged forwards, gently leading Merlin towards the patch of woods surrounding this side of the castle. Arthur didn't stop running until they were a few metres into the thick of the greenery, where the both of them crouched behind a large shrub. Arthur peered cautiously through the branches; the stables were just around the corner, and Arthur desperately wanted to go fetch a horse. But there was no guarantee that he wouldn't run into someone, and soon the warning bell would start - and it would be hard to explain why the Crown Prince of Camelot was found out in the stables in the dead of night with the little raven-haired sorcerer that was supposed to be locked up that very second awaiting execution. It was a sticky situation Arthur couldn't afford to find himself in. And he couldn't leave Merlin alone, not even for a second. Not now he was finally back by Arthur's side - not completely safe yet, but safer.

So that meant no horse. Arthur didn't even know what his plan was - back in his chambers 'break Merlin out of the dungeons' was as far as he'd got. That in itself was a feat enough, and Arthur hadn't thought anything out any further than that. But he was going to be forced to do some quick thinking and work something out soon - any minute now, the warning bell would sound, people would come running, all loud voices and search parties trampling though the grounds, and soon Arthur's absence would be discovered...along with Merlin's.

Arthur wondered how long it would take for Uther to put two and two together.

They had no supplies, no horse, and no time - they needed to move,  _now_ , escape further into the woods...and Arthur prayed silently to himself that the dark cloak of the night would cover them, at least until morning. Arthur squeezed tighter onto Merlin's hand, looking across at the small boy where he crouched next to Arthur, blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. He looked frightened, cold, and Arthur tried to smile reassuringly but found himself incapable of much more than a grimace. They weren't out of danger yet, and Arthur refused to lie to the boy. He tensed suddenly, sensitive ears tuning in to muffled shouts and commotion leaking from the corridor they'd just escaped from.  _Time to go, time to go, time to go..._

"Okay, Merlin..." Arthur whispered, leaning in closer to the boy. "We're going to play a game, just like last time, remember? We have-"

_"-to run, Arthur!" Merlin's laugh tinkled through the air as he yelled over his shoulder. "They're getting away!"_

_Arthur was out of breath, either from laughing or from running he couldn't tell. He kept a careful eye on the boy, making sure he didn't trip up on a low branch of a tree stump as he relentlessly chased after a pair of light blue butterflies that circled each other in the air. Arthur's smile grew wider each time he caught a glimpse of the pure delight on Merlin's face, or when one of the pretty insects fluttered low enough to make Merlin jump up and try to capture it in his cupped hands. Arthur kept up with Merlin easily, but his heart still stopped for a second each time Merlin disappeared out of his line of sight, only relaxing again when he catches another flash of raven hair darting through the woods, contrasting bright against the green._

_"Hurry_ up, _Arthur!" Merlin looked back over his shoulder, and it was just for a moment - but then Merlin's tiny form was flying through the air and Arthur's heart leaped into his throat and he breaks into a proper run, racing to Merlin's side. He lies spread on the mossy forest floor, hands clutched tightly together, pulled in close to his stomach._

 _"Merlin! Merlin, are you hurt?" he panted, wild eyes scanning the small boy for any injuries. "Are you okay?" he asks frantically, noticing Merlin's strange position, hands seeming to be clutching tight to his rib cage._ _"Let me see, Merlin..." He tugged at Merlin's thin wrists, pulling them away to examine his stomach, but Merlin just wriggled and sat himself up, eyes fixed on his cupped hands._

 _"Arthur..." he whispered, crossing his legs and holding his hands in his lap. "Arthur,_ look!" _He opened his hands then, slowly, and there it was, a small blue butterfly, perched calm and still in Merlin's palms. The sunlight seeping through the dappled leaves above them shone down on the pair of them, and Arthur could almost see right through the tiny wings, the light making the blue seem almost transparent. Merlin hadn't lifted his eyes from it, keeping just as still as he watched it close and open it's wings. "It's amazing, Arthur..." he whispered, and Arthur could hear the excitement in his voice._

_"Do you know something about butterflies, Merlin?" Arthur said softly, crossing his legs as well so he sat opposite the little boy._

_"What?" Merlin's gaze flicked up this time, staring at Arthur with those round, blue eyes._

_"They can't see their wings." Arthur told him, remembering having read this in one of Gaius's books when he was younger. "The way their head is on their body, they can't actually see them. They never know what their wings look like."_

_The look of surprise of Merlin's face was adorable, his small mouth open slightly in an inaudible gasp as he stared back at Arthur for a few moments - then dropped his eyes back to the insect now perched gracefully on one extended finger. "That's sad." he said after a while._

_"Why'd you say that?"_

_Merlin raised his hand slowly, so that the butterfly was almost at his eye level. He studied it with interest, the blue of his eyes strangely similar to the colour of the patterned wings, and then said something surprisingly astute for a child his age._

_"They can't see how special they are." he said, then blew gently on his finger and the butterfly fluttered off it, and Merlin followed it with his gaze as it flew upwards and over his shoulder, twisting in the air through the woods. Arthur stared at the small boy in front of him, never feeling more grateful for Merlin's innocence and wonder in the world, as it was times like this that were more precious to Arthur than anything else. He felt a overwhelming love for the child, who'd become like a little brother to him. He couldn't remember a time before Merlin had arrived, and he always wanted to be there for him, now and forever._

_"No...they can't." Arthur murmured, watching hazily as Merlin stood up and waved back at the butterfly, which was now nothing more than an occasional white flutter amist branches._

"-to run, Merlin." Arthur stood up carefully, and took a few steps into the woods, holding out his hand for Merlin to follow. The small boy straightened up, but he looked uncertain, tiny hands playing nervously with the hem of his tunic.

"But-" Merlin started, voice quiet and sore. "There's no butterflies this time, Arthur. How will we know where to go?"

Arthur's heart ached for him, and he closed the gap between them and took Merlin's face in his hands. "Just follow me. You'll be okay, I just need you to run for me, Merlin." he stroked the pale boy's cheek, wincing inwardly as he noticed how cold it was. He waited a moment, then took Merlin's hand again and they started to run.

It wasn't easy; Arthur was worried enough about Merlin tripping in the daytime, let alone after hours like this. It was dark, far too dark, and it only got thicker with every step into the forest. The flickering orange light from the torches around the castle hardly reached them now, and it would be a few more hours before any sort of daylight arrived over the horizon... so Arthur couldn't stop worrying that Merlin would trip or stumble over a branch or run head first into a tree and knock himself out. Arthur could tell Merlin was tired, they both were, neither having gotten any sleep that night. It was then, when they were a fair while into the thick of the woods when Arthur's ears picked up that ominous bell sounding in the distance. The sound of it haunted Arthur, haven been woken many a time to the same noise, knowing only too well that meant nothing but bad things. It filled him with dread even now, and the only thing that seemed to help was keep his legs pounding through the undergrowth, each step ensuring Merlin's safety. Short, panting breaths that he could hear beside him warned Arthur that he really should slow down, Merlin would tire out quicker than he would and was already struggling to keep up with the prince.

_Run run run run run run run..._

Arthur compromised; a little speed for Merlin's rest, and he stopped them both, breathing heavily. He looked around for a moment, the only gauge to how deep into the woods they'd got was the distant sound of the warning bell - they could do with getting further before morning...Arthur knew Uther would order a search party as soon as news of the break out reached him. A search party who would have horses and lit torches and several men at quick disposal to continue the search throughout the night. They would have no chance, no chance at all, and the thought of it made Arthur feel sick. Merlin couldn't run for much longer, so Arthur lent down and scooped up the small boy easily in his strong arms, who was much lighter than Arthur expected, and began to run once again. It was more awkward now, what with Arthur being top heavy, but he managed, dodging every tree as well as he could, mindful of knocking Merlin's head against low hanging branches in the dark. Underneath all the concentration on breathing, running, dodging, Arthur felt Merlin's small hands moving along his skin, holding tight onto Arthur's shoulder, the back of his neck - and it's the anchor Arthur needed to remind himself where he was going, what he was doing this for. He couldn't think about the consequences now, what would happen when-  _if -_ he returned to Camelot, facing the wrath of his father...this was the right thing to do. Arthur shuddered to think about..what he  _might_  have let happen. No, no...this  _was_  the right thing, Arthur was sure. He'd just have to grit his teeth and- and...work something out. He couldn't leave Merlin, even if they ended up staying in the forest forever. Uther's would have discovered Arthur's absence by now, he must have - and soon he would realise what Arthur had done. Arthur doubted his father could forgive him, for such a...a,  _betrayal..._ But then it was fair - after all, Arthur could never forgive Uther for giving Merlin a death sentence in the first place.

Arthur couldn't hear the warning bell any longer. Soon...he thought, soon, they would stop. Turning his head slightly to look at Merlin, Arthur realised the boy was on the verge of sleep, somehow managing to find rest despite the bumping and jagged movement of Arthur running. It warmed him, curved the edges of his mouth as Merlin subconsciously nuzzled his small face into the warmth of Arthur's neck, his tiny fingers still clutching tight to the neckline of Arthur's tunic, Merlin's numb skin brushing Arthur's collarbones. They would rest soon. It had occurred to Arthur that even though the search party was likely to reach them by morning, that many of the men might not be able to find it in themselves to arrest the boy, harmless in his half-sleep state. Unlike his father, many of the knights had spoken to Merlin themselves, seen him in the grounds with Arthur or Gaius, and each one of them had grown their own little attachment to the boy. Sorcerer or not - Merlin didn't have an evil bone in his body, and Arthur knew that Uther's men knew that. Still, there would be exceptions, a spare few who had spent far too long listening blindly to every word Uther had said - so Arthur won't take any chances. He'd keep running, putting more and more distance between him Camelot, and he'd only stop until the dark, thick forest miles eased his peace of mind.

* * *

It was the same spot as any other, Arthur thought. He'd carried on running until his body couldn't take any more, and he'd knelt down at the base of this tree just as the first patches of lighter blue appeared beyond the trees. He'd tried not to disturb Merlin as he'd shrugged off his leather jacket and draped it over the small boy, then leaned back against the hard bark of the tree, still cradling Merlin in his arms. He'd caught a few moments of rest there, with the warmth of Merlin's tiny form pressed against his own soothing him somewhat - but Arthur didn't let himself fall asleep. Not trusting his body to not betray him, he arranged himself in the least comfortable position on the tree roots, resting his neck in an awkward angle hoping it would prevent him from slipping into unconsciousness. Arthur wished he didn't have to stay on edge, wished he could enjoy the simple moment with Merlin, just lay there and let the sounds of the forest waking up lull him into a well awaited sleep - but he just...  _couldn't_ _._ Arthur could feel the gentle flutters of Merlin's slow breathing on his open skin where he'd rested his head on Arthur's chest...he could feel the steady heart beat from within Merlin's own body, only slightly out of time with Arthur's...he could feel the rise and fall of Merlin's chest against his side...and it occurred to Arthur how he had saved all those things. They were still all functioning, still pumping, working, breathing - because of Arthur. It had been too close,  _far_  too close, but Merlin was here now, with him, next to him, still breathing, still living. No way he was going to slip away from Arthur when he was right there, holding tight because Arthur didn't think he'll ever be able to let go ever again. He tilted his head down, pressing a kiss to the top of Merlin's head, Arthur's fingers reaching up to brush the dark hair away from Merlin's pale skin. Arthur hoped his own body heat had managed to warm Merlin, he'd been ever so cold earlier that night, and Arthur hadn't been able to stop panicking that Merlin was going to fall ill. But he'd rubbed some life into Merlin's little fingers, and hadn't left his side since the dungeons, so...it was all Arthur could do to hope and pray and...wait.

The woods around them seemed to be slowly stirring; the crickets that had accompanied the two of them throughout the night had died down, and in half hour or so Arthur knew the morning chorus would sound and wake up the kingdom, like it did every morning. Arthur didn't wanted to think on it, but thoughts of Camelot eventually led to his father and what would be waiting for them if they ever returned. It only sunk in yesterday to Arthur that there was a possibility he couldn't ever return to Camelot, at least not in the near future - not if he wanted to keep Merlin safe. As always, Arthur went over all the possible options: they could return to Camelot, somehow keep Merlin hidden within the castle and worm his way out of Uther's intruding questions about his whereabouts on the night of the break out. Arthur could see the flaws in that plan already; they would be no way to keep his father at bay and keep Merlin safe at the same time...going home simply wasn't an option any longer.

They could stay in the woods, wait it out until things settled - but without supplies or any weapons other than Arthur's sword, they simply wouldn't last long. And of course, there was the search party which would be setting out early this morning. There was no way they could hide out here indefinitely, Uther's knights would reach them some time or another. They could set off for another part of the kingdom, a nearby village on the outskirts which might take them in, at least give them some supplies or proper shelter for a few weeks. It surprised Arthur that he was so willing to give up his titles and royal life simply for Merlin - but Arthur couldn't imagine living with himself knowing he'd let Merlin down for such selfish reasons. His father and his expectations could wait.

Arthur thought he was on the verge of making a decision, absent mindedly stroking the slight curls of dark hair at the back of Merlin's neck when he heard it. Just a crack of a branch, but such a small disturbance stood out in the calm, silent morning air. Arthur almost jumped to his feet, but the weight of Merlin on his chest stopped him. He reached for the hilt of his sword even so, despite not being in a position to fight off an attacker, and trained his eyes onto each slight movement in the scenery surrounding him. Just as the first of the sun broke over the horizon, broken slightly by the stripes of trees, a silhouetted figure stepped out from a clump of greenery and faced Arthur's wide eyes.

"Arthur."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the response to this story! For some reason I didn't put an author's note on the other two chapters, so hi, here I am!
> 
> Haven't come across many child!Merlin stories before, but then that might be because I always read slash. And that would be...slightly disturbing. So yeah, thank you everyone who's alerted this story, or favourited it and please keep the reviews coming! If you write your own fics you'll know how nice it is to receive reviews, and it really encourages me to write and update quicker. But thanks for all those so far!
> 
> (for those of you who have been reading my other story, The Stranger - don't worry, I will update soon. I actually finished the chapter a few days ago, but it didn't feel quite right, there was something missing and as it will be the last chapter I wanted it to be PERFECT before I updated. So just bare with me, I'll probably leave it alone for a few more days and then come back and see if I can edit it. Thanks for waiting!)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, and please review!

 

 

**those younger years**

**never saw yourself standing here**

**they disappeared all the moments you held so dear**

* * *

"I can't believe I found you."

Oh, god.  _Leon._ Arthur's whole body relaxed, but the sense of tension didn't fade completely from under his skin, itching uncomfortably. The knight stood before him, red cloak billowing, rustling the browning leaves around his feet and Arthur stared up at the man, his old friend, watching as his gaze fell over Merlin's sleeping form in his arms. His heart was still hammering in his chest from the surprise; it could have been anyone, he thought...it could...what if it had been bandits, and Arthur had been forced in attack whilst defending a helpless Merlin strewn across his body? They would have been dead, dead within seconds, even if Merlin had woken and Arthur could have fought off ten, twenty men at once...Arthur tried to slow his breathing, bring his heart rate back down. Despite Leon's presence meaning anything but good news, Arthur couldn't help but feel slightly relieved at the sight of his friend. But Arthur couldn't afford for a friendly catch up - if Leon had found him, who knows who else could track them down within the next hour.

"Leon- Leon,  _what are you are doing here?_ " Arthur whispered. Was he with the search party? Had Uther sent him? Surely Leon wouldn't drag him back to Camelot, surely...not Leon, _Leon_  wouldn't.

"We figured out what you'd done as soon as the warning bell sounded," Leon started, voice weary and dark eyes tired, as if he too had a sleepless night. When, considering he'd probably traveled through the woods to find Arthur throughout the night, was likely to be true.

"We?" Arthur interrupted, quirking his eyebrows up at Leon where he still sat against the tree, with Merlin laid upon his chest.

"Percival, Elyan, Lancelot, everyone - we all realised. It's impossible  _not_  to - we all know how you are with- with, Merlin.." he went on, gesturing his head down towards the small boy. "He adores you. And you can try and deny it, Arthur, but I think you need him even more than he needs you." Leon half smiled at Arthur, and his words touched at something inside Arthur. It was true; he cared more for Merlin than he ever has for another person, more than he felt dedicated to his duties, to Camelot...Arthur had to be stupid to think that the knights hadn't picked up on this fact. He nodded blankly at Leon, still deep in thought.

"To be honest, sire, when I heard Uther's decision for Merlin, I-  _we,_ were planning on protesting to your father anyway. We knew you'd try something, it was only a matter of time...so when we heard the bell go off - we knew what you'd done. Arthur, I'm not disagreeing with your decision- but you have to understand, Uther is furious. Once he was made aware of your absence..." Leon trailed off, dark eyes now more caring and worried as he glanced around the area, peering behind trees and over bushes. Arthur could feel Merlin stirring above him, their voices pulling him gently out of his sleep.

"I know, Leon." Arthur answered firmly - it felt strange, admitting what he'd been thinking over in his head for several months but only now saying out loud. "But my father is wrong, he has been for many years - he's wrong about magic, about so many things and I can't sit by and watch as more people get hurt from his prejudice. Especially..." Arthur trailed off, looking down at the small boy as his arm curves up to stroke the side of Merlin's face, watching happily as the boy unconsciously leaned into the touch, small nose crinkling and smiling in his sleep. "Especially not Merlin."

Leon just smiled sadly at the two of them, and Arthur knew he didn't need to say any more - Leon often could pick up on the things Arthur wanted to say, but didn't...or couldn't, and Arthur always found himself grateful of this. Helpful, when he couldn't bring himself to say out loud what he was really thinking, and funnily enough the subject was frequently to do with his father. There was so many things he wanted to say about Uther; but Arthur wasn't as free to say as he liked. He had the safety of Camelot to think of, if their enemies got wind of disagreements between the King and his son over the best way to rule the kingdom, then they would be seen as an easy, weak target for invasion. A house divided cannot stand, and all that. Even the people of Camelot would be effected - how would they supposed to have faith in their King knowing that his own son disagreed with the way he ran things, disagreed with so many decisions, so many laws? Despite being the Crown Prince, the second most powerful person for miles, Arthur couldn't speak his mind. He couldn't afford to.

"Why did you come looking for me?" Arthur asked, the question suddenly popping in his head. Leon sighed.

"I was worried." he said simply. "I knew you'd do something ridiculous and drastic and wouldn't wait to think things through first. I'm not with the search party, but Uther thinks I am. I left at the same time he sent them out...as soon as hearing about your absence - Elyan and Percival included, sire. I told them where I knew you'd gone, and they've agreed to lead the party far in the opposite direction." His words relaxed Arthur considerably, easing the paranoia of being caught so helpless out in the forest. Arthur's heart warmed hearing what they had done...they may be Uther's knights, but they were Arthur's  _friends_.

"Leon-...thank you." Arthur smiled weakly at his friend, again his eyes continuing the conversation for him. He knew Leon would understand. "Thank you."

"It will buy you time, sire, but not much. You know as well as I do, Uther will be thorough with the search, he won't give up easily - you must move on from here, get Merlin somewhere safe. Uther will show no mercy, as you know well." Leon stated it bluntly, attempting to ignore the implications of his words - but Arthur picked up on it. He knew. He knew what would happen if they got caught. He knew what would happen if Uther's men found them, dragged them back to Camelot, imprisoned them. Well, he didn't know what Uther would do to him - but Arthur knew what would he would do to- to Merlin.

"I know, Leon - but..." Arthur trailed off, royal facade slipping. He couldn't keep it up, he was too tired, and help was right in front of him and Arthur didn't mind admitting to how under prepared they were. It was only Leon. "We have nothing. No horse, no food, nowhere to go...I have my sword and that's it. We can't stay out in the woods forever, Leon, I don't- I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Arthur looked up at the man, feeling vulnerable. He didn't like it, but they needed help. Arthur couldn't deny that to himself any longer. Leon crouched down, placing his hand down on Arthur's shoulder, and squeezed, firm.

"Arthur...I came to  _help_  you." he said fondly. "I can make my way back on foot, you can take my horse. I brought our usual pack of supplies, extra weapons, some food, water...not much, but more than you have right now." Leon smiled at the prince, and Arthur could see the respect and dedication in his eyes. Leon was a old friend of his, he'd always remained loyal to Arthur and now...Arthur felt guilty for doubting Leon in the first place. Arthur bit his tongue, and nodded slightly at his friend, extremely touched by the words. It was silent for a while; simply watching as Merlin shifted slightly between the two of them, features twitching and smiling in his sleep. Arthur hoped he was dreaming. Of somewhere safe, somewhere away from here...where he didn't have to hide who he was, or run for his life. Of his home. Of his mother. Arthur felt a twinge deep in his chest - Gaius had often told him about Hunith, her kindness, her protection over Merlin, her utter, unconditional love for her son...she had sounded like a wonderful person, but Merlin didn't often talk about her, always going quiet when her name was brought up in conversation. Arthur couldn't remember his own mother, and although a slight blur of a figure had often appeared in his own dreams growing up... Arthur had no idea what she had really looked like. Arthur couldn't tell what was worse; never knowing your mother at all, growing up with a cold, unapproachable father and a hazy shape of a mother figure imagined up in your head...or having seven, precious years with her, her loving you perfectly throughout each, only a few of them that you would actually remember then having her taken from you, suddenly, brutally. So yes, Arthur hoped Merlin was dreaming of his mother. Arthur certainly couldn't.

"Merlin came from Ealdor, right?" Arthur mused quietly, eyes still on the small boy. "It's probably about a day's ride from here."

Leon didn't answer straight away, picking up on the path Arthur's thoughts were taking him. "I suppose.." he murmured. "Would he be safe there?"

Arthur had wondered about this. With Leon's horse and the supplies, they could easily make it to Ealdor in day or two. There would be someone there who had known Hunith, who remembered her little raven haired son...surely they would be willing to help them out, give them somewhere to rest, to stay for a few days while Arthur could figure out a plan? But- and this was where Arthur's thoughts fizzled out.  _What plan?_  Percival, Elyan and the others wouldn't be able to fool the search party for long, Arthur didn't know to what lengths Uther would go to recapture them - would Ealdor be far enough? Would anywhere be far enough? Maybe Uther would feel so betrayed by his own son's actions, that he would simply not care for Arthur's whereabouts, as long as they were out of the kingdom. He couldn't search forever, it would be a waste of resources...of the horse's energy, of men...Arthur knew Uther would want to keep his knights close to Camelot, he wouldn't continue the search further than the boundaries of the kingdom. But then, Arthur had never..  _'betrayed'_ his father in such an outright fashion before - Arthur had no previous experience to judge Uther's reaction to his actions. He couldn't know for certain what his father would do. Even so, Ealdor seemed their best option so far, and Arthur was itching to get out of the woods.

"I don't know...safer than here, though." Arthur said firmly. "That's certain." He looked up at his friend, his eyes meeting Leon's grey-blue ones. "But then what? Then what would we do? I can't guarantee he'll be safe there, he has no family - what if Uther reaches him, finds him? I can't let him find him, Leon, I can't- I..." Arthur trailed off, looking helplessly at his friend, the stress of sleepless nights and exhaustion washing over him. Arthur realised with slight embarrassment that his eyes had started glistening at some point while he'd been speaking. He wasn't going to cry now, not in front of Leon. Unnoticed by the two of them, Merlin had fully woken, and was lying still in Arthur's arms while he peered up at the conversation, listening intently, silently.

"You want to stay with him." It wasn't a question. Leon knew full well what Arthur was trying to say, as always - but this time Arthur felt ashamed. He hadn't wanted to say it, he hadn't...but it didn't stop him wanting it. It was true; he was willing to give up his royal life and prince duties, if only temporarily, to ensure Merlin's safety. If Arthur took Merlin to Ealdor, he would have no intention of leaving Merlin on his own there. No matter how capable the hands were that Arthur would leave Merlin in...it wouldn't be enough, it wouldn't give Arthur's peace of mind. Yes, he could return to Camelot, continue with his duties, train the knights, carry on like he had before as if nothing had changed, as if everything was fine. But Merlin would not leave his thoughts; it would keep him on edge, he'd be convinced that every second Merlin was away from him he would be in danger - after all, there was a _reason_  he'd been taken to Camelot in the first place. Merlin couldn't be left alone. The thought itself made Arthur feel sick. No one at Ealdor knew Merlin as well as Arthur did, his family was  _Arthur_  now, his home was with _him_...yes, Uther would be furious, and several people would disapprove...but Arthur couldn't see himself returning to Camelot without knowing  _for certain_  that Merlin was safe.

Arthur felt something settle in his chest as he made his decision, feeling a strange mixture of guilt from deserting Camelot and contentment at making up his mind. Arthur didn't know how long he intended to stay, he could be talking weeks, months, possibly even a year...it wouldn't be forever, of course, one day he  _would_  return to Camelot, just not now when Merlin was still so vulnerable. Uther would continue to rule, Camelot wasn't going to crash and burn simply because Arthur had left for a period of time. He knew his choice would effect Uther deeply, possibly even more than running off in the first place - leaving was one thing, but not returning was another. But despite this, Arthur couldn't imagine deserting Merlin, and it was the small boy resting on his chest, clutching Arthur's jacket tighter around his body, that had finally swayed his decision. Once again, Arthur found that Uther could wait.

Arthur sighed. "Yes. Yes- I do." He wasn't going to lie. Leon stared back at him with growing respect, keeping silent for Arthur to continue. "I know what this will mean for my relationship with my father, if there even  _is_  one right now. I know what the consequences will be. But, Leon..I have to make sure Merlin is safe. I  _have to_. If I return to Camelot, leave him in Ealdor...I don't know, Leon - I think I'd go insane." Arthur looked straight at his friend, hoping Leon understood. He needed to know he was making the right decision.

"I'll stay with him, wherever we end up, if that's Ealdor or not. I'm not going to loose him, Leon, I'll do anything. Even if that means staying away from Camelot for a while." Arthur continued, voice quiet yet firm, settling in his choice. Leon nodded at him, another half-smile, and gave his shoulder another squeeze before lowering his hand.

"I understand, sire."

It was quiet for a moment, and Arthur noticed how far the sun had risen while they had been talking, now searing through the trees in the distance, rays of light reaching them on occasion. It was still early, but Arthur knew they should move on from their spot.

"Are we going home, Arthur?"

Merlin's small voice floated up from below Arthur, unexpected and sharp against Arthur's ears that had gotten used to Leon's steady, deep tone. Arthur jumped slightly at the sound, angling his head down to look at the small boy, his blue eyes round and staring at Arthur, not as bleary from sleep as Arthur expected - it seemed he'd had been awake for a while. Listening to everything they'd been saying. Arthur broke his gaze with those mesmerizing blue eyes and glanced at Leon, who, judging from his surprised expression, hadn't realised Merlin had woken either. Arthur was speechless, wondering what to tell Merlin. By home...did he mean Ealdor? Or Camelot? The boy shifted where he lay, Arthur's jacket slipping off his shoulders as he sat up, kneeling beside Arthur and looked straight at the prince.

"Merlin, we're going to  _your_  home." Arthur said tenderly, watching the boy closely for his reaction. The last thing Arthur wanted to do was upset Merlin by taking him back to a place full of painful memories of his mother. "Is that okay?"

Merlin stared back at Arthur, then down at his lap where his small hands rested on his knees. "Will you be coming as well?" he asked shyly, picking at a small hole in his breeches, slowly making it larger and larger as the weave of the material fell apart.

 _"-don't lie to me, Merlin."_ _Arthur tried his best to stop a grin breaking out across his face at the boy, his attempts to not look guilty making it even more obvious. Merlin kept playing with a loose thread dangling off the hem of his red tunic, the way he often did when he felt guilty, bashful, or shy...or when he thought he might be a disappointment to Arthur. The shattered vase lay on the floor of Arthur's chambers between them, and Arthur raised a questioning eyebrow at the little boy._

_"I was only playing, Arthur," Merlin protested, still looking sheepish. "I'm sorry..."_

_Arthur sighed. He couldn't stay mad for long, not when Merlin looked so vulnerable standing there, biting his lip and tiny fingers unraveling the red fabric more and more. Arthur stepped carefully round the shards of china and approached Merlin before he pulled out all the thread from his entire tunic.  
_

_"It's alright," he said kindly, ruffling Merlin's dark hair. "Just remember to tell the truth, Merlin. It's never good to lie."_

Arthur leaned forward, his own hands resting on top of Merlin's, glad to feel that they weren't frozen like last night. Merlin gaze flicked up to latch onto Arthur's, and he found he could easily fall into the depths of those blue eyes. Arthur's heart ached for the boy, slightly hurt that Merlin was doubting whether Arthur would be staying with him.

"Of course, Merlin. I won't ever leave you." Arthur said calmly, not surprised at all at how naturally the words came. "You don't have to worry, okay?" His words seemed to fade the unease from Merlin's eyes, and he nodded eagerly at Arthur.

"I'll go get the horse," Leon straightened up and walked past them, round the tree and out of sight. Arthur couldn't tell Leon how grateful he was for his help - simply being here, talking things through, getting them straight in Arthur's head...it meant so much to him. They stood a fair chance now, they could make it.  _God,_ Arthur hoped they would make it.

"Okay, Merlin," Arthur said firmly, looking straight at the young boy, making sure his words sunk in. "We're going to Ealdor, where you used to live - remember? We'll stay there for a while, and...and- and I'll stay with you, look after you. Okay?" Arthur clenched his hands tighter round Merlin's smaller ones, then lifted them and steadily got up, leaning his hand on the tree as he stretched his aching back. Merlin jumped up soon after, holding out the jacket towards Arthur. He smiled.

"S'alright, Merlin, you can wear it." Arthur told him, just as Leon came round the corner leading a tall, brown horse, tail and mane swishing in the morning light. He beamed at his old friend, still so touched at his thoughtfulness. "Leon, I honestly can't thank you enough." he said, leading Merlin over to the animal.

"It's no trouble, sire - I just hope you arrive at Ealdor safely." Leon handed the reins over to Arthur and assisted him as he lifted Merlin up onto the horse. "Take care of him, Arthur."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder and looked Leon straight in the eye. "You know I will." He turned to Merlin and smirked a little, watching the boy look around in amazement, seeing the world a few metres higher than normal and stoking the shiny, black mane. Arthur then heaved himself up onto the horse and made sure Merlin was tucked close behind him.

"Good luck, Arthur." Leon said, standing strong beside the tree, watching them with something a little bit like pride. Arthur raised his hand in one final wave, then flicked the reins and squeezed his legs and they set off through the woods, weaving in and out of the trees until they found some kind of path, cantering steadily along it.

"Hold on tight, Merlin." Arthur reminded, only able to relax when he felt Merlin's thin arms snaking around Arthur's waist, and the feel of Merlin pressing the side of his face gently into Arthur's back. Merlin was the constant that Arthur held onto, and the feel of his tiny form behind him was what kept him galloping on through the woods, knowing that he was safe, and with each metre - even safer.


	5. Chapter 5

**start keeping them close**

**waves come and go**

* * *

They rode for hours. Arthur kept his eyes on the battered path in front of them, the steady, rhythmic pounding of hooves, the rush of air past his ears harsh on his face helped him concentrate. The feel of Merlin behind him was ever present against his back, the way he clung tight on occasions as they hit a rough part of the track, easing Arthur's paranoia that the boy might fall off. Arthur had lost track of how many miles they'd traveled, the trees simply passed in a blur now as the sun slowly edged it's way up the sky, bathing them in soft green-yellow dappled light as they rode. Further, and further, and further through the woods. Arthur was tired; he didn't think he'd felt more tired in all his life...the dull ache never faded, seeping deeper and deeper into every bone, every cramped muscle, into the skin stretched around his eyes. He felt it everywhere, dragging him down, making him feel sick to the stomach. But Arthur didn't let himself slip, forced himself to concentrate on the path ahead - they would soon be out of the cover of the woods, soon reach the outskirts, nearing Ealdor with every mile. It seemed days since this whole thing started, since Merlin had first been imprisoned - it seemed like Arthur had spent two, three nights without sleep, rather than just one. Had it only been yesterday when...when Arthur heard that news, that  _Uther knew_ , and that Merlin...- that Merlin had been caught?

_"Arthur!"_

_Leon's voice cut through the air as he shouted across the grounds. Arthur continued to ride in on his horse, having returned from a short hunting trip to pass the morning before returning to his duties later on. He hadn't been gone that long, Arthur thought, yet he was barely through the tall stone arch to Camelot before the knight came rushing towards him. Couldn't he be left alone for two minutes? All Arthur wanted to do was to collapse back in his chambers, and maybe have a long bath, or go and find Merlin and spend the afternoon playing with him. But he knew that Uther wanted him in various different council meetings later that day, so going on adventures with Merlin today was out of the question. Arthur walked his horse nearer to the man._

_"Leon! What's go- oh.." Arthur started, but his heart dropped as he got close enough to take in the stony look on the knight's face. Leon wasn't supposed to look like that. No, no..something was wrong, something was very, very, wrong...Leon didn't loose his calm, never, he was normally the one to keep a clear head in times of trouble - this panicked, almost..._ scared _look didn't belong on Leon's face, and seeing it there stirred something deep in Arthur. He took a breath, preparing for whatever news Leon was about to bring him. Was it his father? Was he ill? Was Camelot under attack?_

_"Leon...Leon what is it?" Arthur unhooked his feet from the stirrups and hastily jumped down from his horse, turning to face the man. Leon simply stared at him, eyes full of worry, sympathy, nerves...he sighed heavily. Arthur couldn't brace himself enough for the following words, and they caught him off guard._

_"Merlin's been arrested."_

_No._

No.

_Anything but that. Arthur felt his blood run cold, the sinking feeling falling right through his chest and hitting his suddenly hallow stomach. It knocked the air out of Arthur; he knew what Leon's next words were going to be, as much as he tried to deny it, tried to block it out, tried to shove it so far down below it would give up and disappear somehow. But Arthur knew it was coming, he knew, probably should have realised it sooner, but he'd known really, deep down, as soon as he saw Leon running up to him._

_"For...for the use of magic."_

_It confirmed every one of Arthur's fears, like one of his nightmares, and the force still hit him hard. He screwed his eyes tight, the blow of those words strong and unmerciful against his chest. Arthur felt tears start to leak from the crinkles of his eyes as he pressed the heels of his palms into his sockets. It was a physical blow, clenching tight around his chest, his stomach, and Arthur felt sick. This couldn't be happening. He opened his eyes again, blinking blearily at Leon, speechless. Stock still. It took a few seconds for Arthur to regain use of his body, stumbling forward suddenly as he wrenched his gaze off Leon and tried to remember how running worked._

_"I-" Arthur spluttered, dimly aware he was gaping like an idiot, then gave up on words and surged forwards, rushing past Leon...across the grounds, into the courtyard, pushing past so many people, not caring who he shoved - they were in his way. Almost tripping up the castle steps Arthur kept running, boots scuffing on the stone, echoing in the hallway as he suddenly found himself in the castle, almost skidding into the walls at each corner. He hardly was aware of where he was going, simply letting his legs take over, powering fast down each long, empty corridor, trusting that his feet would take him where he needed to be. His heart was pounding, and he could feel his heavy breath catch and choke in his throat as he ran, but the rest of his body seemed to be left behind - it felt like his stomach was still out in the grounds, yet the feeling of sickness hadn't left Arthur. Merlin's name was like a mantra in Arthur's head...repeating over and over and over until- suddenly, he found himself bursting through a old, heavy door- and his heart sank further as he realised where he'd ended up. The dungeons. It was like a subconscious part of his brain was painfully aware of Merlin's...fate...despite all Arthur's attempts to ignore it and deny it as much as possible. There was no way_ that _was happening. Ever. He couldn't bare to think about it._

_Arthur eyes refocused on his surroundings- and his breathing hitched in his throat as he took in the sight before him._ Merlin _. Oh, god - there he was, at the end of the corridor, thin legs kicking, heels digging desperately into the floor, squeaking and scuffing as he was dragged by two faceless guards further down the corridor, further, away from Arthur. His heart ached, painful against his chest as the feeling forced itself up his throat, choking his words as he yelled out down the hall._

_"_ Merlin! _" his voice cracked, tears welling up again. The boy's face, which had been screwed up tight in his efforts to break away from the guards suddenly went blank, limbs relaxing as he reacted to the sound of Arthur's voice. Everything seemed to fall into slow motion - Arthur watched Merlin's gleaming blue eyes grow wider as he spotted Arthur at the end of the hallway, arm stretching out, desperate to reach the boy. Merlin's lip trembled, pure fear creeping back onto his features, tears splashing down his pale cheeks. The guards yanked harder at Merlin's tiny arms, and Arthur feared they would tear them right off if they pulled anymore. Merlin, who had stopped fighting against them on hearing Arthur's yell, started to writhe and twist against the restraints once again, blue eyes locked on Arthur and then fear bubbled up and burst out of the small boy._

_"ARTHUR! ARTHUR!" he screamed, attempting to hook his ankle around the wall as the guards dragged him round the corner at the end of the corridor. "ARTHUR!"_

_The shrill sound shot right through Arthur - someone could have stabbed him in the chest and it would have hurt less. Anything would be less painful than hearing that horrific sound come out of Merlin...Arthur never wanted to hear it again, but Merlin didn't stop, he kept screaming, over and over until the sound of it seemed to echo continuously around Arthur's head. He seemed to unfreeze and force his legs to work again, racing down the hallway, heart pumping so hard it seemed to be crushing his lungs, there was not enough space in his chest, he could hear it in his ears, feel it in his fingertips as the world spun...Arthur used every last scrap of energy he had on getting to Merlin, concentrating on nothing else but on getting- to- Merlin-_ now _. But the corridor just seemed to get longer, lengthening out more and more with every stumbling step Arthur took._

_"MERLIN!" Arthur's voice burst out of him, screeching just as Merlin had - like he was so desperate to reach the boy, throwing his voice was the only way to get to him. Merlin_ _'s attempts were in vain - Arthur watched in horror as the guards succeeded in unhooked his ankle and hauling the boy around the corner, until Arthur could only see Merlin's kicking legs, and then they too were gone. Arthur gasped, choked on his own breath as a whole new wave of panic broke out over him - chilling every fibre of his being and leaving him more scared than ever before. Because now Merlin was out of sight. And those cold, broken screams that still echoed around the stone walls would be the last memory Arthur would have of the boy._

_"MERLIN! NO- MERLIN!" Still attempting to reach Merlin, Arthur urged his aching muscles to carry on running relentlessly down the corridor, and somehow,_ somehow _, he managed to get to the corner, wheeling around it in a rush as his eyes searched frantically for the boy. God. Oh, god..no, oh, there he was- Merlin...Arthur had just latched his gaze back onto those sparkling blue eyes, gleaming out in the dusty darkness of the dungeons - when he felt two heavy blows to his stomach, winding him instantly and yanking him backwards. After blinking rapidly for a few seconds, clearing the stars from his eyes, Arthur looked around to see what he'd hit - and realised with another punch to his gut that two guards were gripping tight at his arms, hauling him backwards, preventing him from reaching Merlin. No._ No- _they were_ not _taking him away from him - they were_ not _..._

_Arthur surged forwards, heaving against his restraints, arms stretching out as he tried to grab any part of Merlin he could - despite being at least three metres out of reach. But as much as he tugged and pulled and kicked out, the guards remained strong, and just got stronger with every attempt of escape. They couldn't do this - he was the_ Prince _, they would listen to him, they had no right to restrain him like this...Arthur watched in terror, wide eyed as Merlin fought just the same in front of him. Merlin's guards began to drag him_ _further towards the dungeons, inching him further away from Arthur and he struggled even more, and Arthur yelled until his voice was so hoarse it felt ripped open._

_"MERLIN!"_

_"ARTHUR! ARTHUR!"_

_Arthur went limp for a moment, steadying his gaze on the small boy's face, drinking in his features, committing each and every one to memory. The soft, round edges of his face, those ridiculous ears, his beautiful blue eyes wet with tears, so scared. So very scared. And it might be the last time Arthur would get to see them. Another shot of pain ran through Arthur's veins as he blinked, his mind's eye imagining the worst...those stunning, sea-blue eyes as empty shells, sitting in pale sockets, never blinking, void of any emotion or depth and the furthest possible thing from...alive._

__No- that..that couldn't happen, this couldn't be it, not_ now- Arthur wrenched his eyes open again..._

_...but he was too late. The corridor was empty. Merlin was gone._

_"NO! NO- NO, MERLIN! MERLIN!" Arthur writhed desperately against the men, but it was all in vain. "MERLIN!"_

_"_ Arthur." _  
_

_No. Not him. Not now. Uther's voice rang out cold across the space, cutting deep through Arthur's panic like a freezing bucket of water tipped over his head. Arthur felt his entire body begin to tremble as the guards marched him back around the corner and down the corridor, forcing him to turn and face his father. Arthur could still hear Merlin's screams, and he could feel a muscle jumping in his jaw as he looked down the corridor at Uther. If it wasn't for the guards tight grip under his arms, Arthur thought he might have walked up to the king and tried to strangle him._

_"You." Arthur wasn't surprised by the venom he heard in his voice. He was barely aware of what he was saying, anger rising up uncontrollably inside him, blurring his vision, clouding his thoughts even more. "You did this. How_ could  _you? He's just a_ child!"  _Arthur was dimly aware that somehow Uther was getting closer and closer to him, then he realised the guards were still half-dragging Arthur down the hallway, taking him further towards his father. They were soon face to face, and Arthur had never hated him more. "He's just a CHILD! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?!"_ _  
_

_Uther barely reacted to Arthur's words, looking down at his son with nothing more than tiredness, disappointment and something else Arthur couldn't quite read in Uther's stony expression._

_"He's a sorcerer, Arthur. And like all sorcerers, he is nothing but a danger to Camelot." Uther's voice was so calm, and it sickened Arthur. "He will be executed at dawn."_

_Arthur was speechless. _How could he just stand there and let this happen? He was so blinded by his hatred of magic he would willingly send a child to death without a second glance, without mercy, without a fair trial, without blinking. It wasn't right, and Arthur couldn't believe he'd stood for it, watched it happened time and time again, for so many years, so many innocent lives, so many wasted. He wanted to scream, kick out at the guards and run back to Merlin, take him away from this place, somewhere that he would be safe, and Arthur would never let any harm come to him, ever. But shouting at Uther would do nothing to improve the situation. In fact, Arthur would probably find himself locked in his own prison cell, useless, and that would practically seal Merlin's fate. And Arthur was__  not _letting that happen._

_"Father, you can't do this." Arthur struggled to remain calm, but he stopped fighting against the men. Uther looked Arthur straight in the eye then, fixing him with such a glare that Arthur wanted to recoil, step back from this monster that couldn't possibly be his father. But Arthur didn't - he stood his ground, lifted his chin and stared back at Uther, breathing heavily, heart still thumping._

_"Oh, I can. And I will." Uther spoke with a deadly sense of finality, then turned his gaze to the two guards. "Escort him back to his chambers. Let him calm down in there."  
_

_They nodded, and Arthur felt his sore, aching arms being tugged again, pulling him away from the presence of his father. Arthur was only too glad._

Concentrate.  _Concentrate._ Stop thinking about it - he's safe now, he's safe now, he's right there.  _He's right there._ Arthur desperately wanted to cease riding and rest, eat...just  _relax_  for the first time in hours - but somehow couldn't bring himself to stop. Riding...it gave him something to do, made him feel useful, something to focus on - Arthur could convince himself it was like any other time with Merlin, another one of their adventures through the forest, and not running for their lives. But soon, as the sun reached high enough to bear down on Arthur's back, reality- and most of all, his hunger - seemed to sway his decision and he slowed the horse down to a trot just as the trees began to thin out gradually. In the distance, Arthur could pick out a scattering of villages, relaxing as he realised that they should be able to make it to Ealdor by night fall.

Hopefully _then_...Merlin would be safe.

They stopped, Arthur helped Merlin down from the horse and they ate - Arthur leaning against a tree as Merlin sat cross legged opposite him. Arthur hadn't realised just how hungry he was until he searched through what Leon had packed - enough food for the both of them and three water skins full to the brim - and his stomach had started growling impatiently. Arthur watched Merlin with curiosity as he ate, diving into the food as if he hadn't eaten for days. He felt guilty then, realising that while Arthur himself had been willing to put off his own hunger all this time, he should have thought to stop and at least allow Merlin to eat. But Arthur buried the niggling guilty feeling deep down, knowing there was nothing he could do about it, and Merlin was eating now, so it was okay. There were so many things Arthur could start to blame himself for, so he tried to busy himself with something to concentrate on as much of the time as he could so he wouldn't have time to start beating himself up. It was hard, especially when the blinding proof was all around him, the small cuts on Merlin's hands as he played with his food, the angry, red marks on his ankles from the chains...even their surroundings were a constant reminder of the situation they were in - which led to Arthur over-thinking everything, plunging his mind into a million 'what if's, and blaming himself for every tiny thing that led them to this point. Why hadn't he tried harder? Why hadn't he tried to teach Merlin more control, helped him to keep a hold on his magic - why hadn't he done that? Why hadn't he confronted his father sooner? Why hadn't he taken better care of Merlin, made sure he wouldn't end up in a situation like he had? Did he think it wasn't  _worth his time?_  How selfish was he? Was he so self-absorbed and arrogant that he'd let his best friend get arrested, that he didn't even put in the effort to  _ensure_  Merlin knew how to control his magic, to help him? Why hadn't he  _tried harder_?!

That was exactly why Arthur shouldn't leave himself to dwell on his thoughts for too long at a time; he knew deep down, that it  _wasn't his fault,_  but he couldn't help it. Merlin meant more to him than anybody else, Arthur didn't have many close friends, apart from a few knights that had recently proven their loyalty to Arthur - which he would be forever grateful for - but still, Merlin was all he had for actual  _family_. And Leon was right - Arthur probably needed Merlin more than he realised, more than the boy needed Arthur. That was always the way with Merlin, he was so caught up in the world and discovering it, he never really  _needed_  any company, he could simply sit in the long grass and find things and laugh and soak up the never ending  _life_  that he seemed to notice all the time, all on his own. Of course, Merlin always preferred someone with him to discover all these things with, because 'It's never as much fun without a friend', Merlin had once told him. And Arthur didn't mind in the slightest being that person, he loved it, treasuring those moments with the boy. Arthur guessed it might be to do with his magic, but Merlin was so much more in touch with the world...much more than Arthur could remember being when he was that age. Uther had been determined to raise Arthur as a born warrior, rather than a boy, a _child_ , and Arthur had been trained to kill as soon as he could pick up a sword. There had been no time for exploring, for discovering, and before Merlin, Arthur had walked through the same parts of woods without ever really  _looking,_ and it was only with Merlin that he could now pick up on these small wonderous details. Arthur was playing catch up, but with Merlin constantly around, he had no trouble learning how to look at the world through a child's mind - in a strange new way he'd never done before.

Arthur glanced at Merlin then, trying not to laugh when the boy bit off a huge chunk of bread only to find it way too big for him to chew. Merin screwed up his face as he struggled with his mouthful, and once he'd swallowed painfully, Arthur chuckled and picked up one of the water skins.

"Here," he said, passing the water to Merlin, who took it eagerly with two hands, gulping down the liquid as if he hadn't seen water in weeks. "Hey, slow down there." Merlin just held the skin up higher, gulping down the last few drops, throat pulsing as he swallowed. Arthur smirked at him as he brought the now empty skin down, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand then grinned widely at the prince. Arthur couldn't help but return it. How could Merlin look like that, laugh breaking out across his face as if he hadn't been chained up in the dark awaiting execution only a few hours ago? How could he carry on with his life when it had gotten so dangerously close to ending? Arthur wished he could brush it off, forget and move on like Merlin seemed to do so well. He wished he could have Merlin's innocence. But experiencing it here, although second hand, was good enough for Arthur - he could never be anything less than grateful for Merlin.

"Feeling better?" Arthur asked. Merlin was certainly looking less pale, now that he'd had some rest, and eaten. He no longer looked like he was on the verge of the death he'd gotten so close to.

"Yeah." Merlin shrugged, scooting slightly closer to Arthur. "Less hungry." He grinned, then looked up at Arthur with those beautiful, blue eyes. Arthur was never going to take them for granted ever again, engraving the colours and lines into his brain so he wouldn't ever forget - not when the last memory Arthur might have been left with was them glistening with fearful tears. From now on, he would capture each laugh, each grin, every happy moment Merlin shared with Arthur, so that one day those moments would out weigh the bad ones.

"Come here," Arthur said softly, edging forwards and reaching out his arms to pull Merlin into him. Merlin squirmed and tried to resist, but Arthur was too strong for him.

" _Art_ hur..." Merlin moaned, his small nose crinkling up but then he burst out laughing - Arthur had resorted to plan b: tickling. Arthur started laughing himself as his hands scuttered over the small boy, tickling him along his sides and eventually managing to pull him onto his lap.

"No- stop it! Ah- that's unfair,  _Arthur,_ no. _.._ " Merlin wriggled, trying to escape but Arthur latched his arms around him now, keeping Merlin there. "Arthur, I'm not sleepy."

Arthur chuckled at Merlin's pouting, mussing up the raven hair where his head found it's usual spot on Arthur's shoulder. "Yeah, I know - but I am, so shush." Arthur grinned, knowing that Merlin would succumb within a few minutes - there was no place Merlin liked better to sleep than resting on Arthur's chest. And, for the first time since they'd set off, Arthur felt safe enough to allow himself some rest, and he could already feel his body welcoming the gentle tug of unconsciousness.

" _Ar_ thur..."

"Merlin - shut up." Arthur tightened his hold on the boy, and finally he seemed to settle, nuzzling into Arthur's warm neck once again.

But Arthur was wrong; they weren't as isolated as he'd thought. For a few metres away, hidden crouching behind a clump of greenery - someone was watching them.


	6. Chapter 6

**let it play out**

**I hope that the sun**

**I hope that the sun, finds you now**

* * *

"Merlin, how much do you remember of your mother?"

They'd been back on the horse for a while now - and within a few minutes they were well and truly out of the cover and security of the trees, cantering further through the open fields as dry grass crunched under the hooves. Ealdor was slowly drifting into view in the distance as Arthur scanned the horizon. He guessed all the riding and the haze of thoughts flying around his head had finally tipped him over the edge - but either way, Arthur had opened his big mouth and asked. Why,  _why_ did he bring that up? It was stupid- the last thing Merlin needed was Arthur harassing him with questions of his mother and other things he'd rather not think about. Of course, they were heading straight towards a whole village of painful memories, so it was likely that Merlin was already thinking about it – but Arthur didn't know, he never seemed to understand what went on in that little head of Merlin's. It had probably crossed his mind, at least, and Arthur just wished the boy talked to him about it, rather than just brooding quietly to himself. Not that Arthur could really preach about not brooding to oneself. He wanted to care for him, emotionally as well as physically, but it had never been a subject Arthur had breached before. He had no idea where the question came from, regretting it immediately - but somehow it slipped out his lips without thinking, just another thought Arthur had accidentally voiced out loud. Anyway...he had asked, but Merlin didn't have to say anything.

And he didn't - at least not for a few moments, long enough to make Arthur think he was straight out ignoring the question, or he simply hadn't heard him. Maybe Arthur hadn't actually said it out loud...that would make things easier. But then, Merlin spoke.

"A little." he mumbled, and Arthur could feel the vibrations next to his back. "She was nice. She liked to stroke my hair, like you do sometimes."

A small memory...possibly one of the only ones Merlin was left with. Arthur wanted to turn around and hug the boy, offer some sort of comfort, but that action was slightly more difficult while riding a horse - so Arthur just brought his hand down to rest on Merlin's own one, tiny where it was clinging tight around Arthur's waist. He squeezed it tight, apologising for his question and Arthur felt Merlin rest his cheek onto his back again, waiting to see if he'd continue.

"We had a house. It was small, smaller than Uncle Gaius's.." Merlin carried on, practically whispering and Arthur had to strain his ears to hear the little voice over the rush of the wind, and the hooves underneath them. "It got- er...it isn't..." Merlin hesitated. "There was another boy. We were friends."

Arthur smiled slightly to himself, stoking Merlin's small hand in his own as he talked. He rarely spoke about time before Camelot, and Arthur had often worried if he could remember any of it at all...or he'd simply tried to block it out, forget it.

"What was his name?" Arthur asked softly.

"Will."

_Will_. Arthur chuckled. Of course Merlin had made friends there, his bright, sparkling personality charming both adults and children his own age. Arthur could just imagine the two running out in the fields, climbing over fences and exploring things in the way he loved so much...Merlin, probably chasing another damned butterfly - the boy had developed a strange fascination in the small insects. Arthur pictured the two boys racing into Hunith's little house, panting, hair rustled and eyes wide from running in the wind - and then Hunith would tell them off lightly, brush the grass off their clothes and pinch their cheeks. Those motherly things that Arthur assumed all mothers did. It was weird, thinking about Merlin's previous life- his own friends back at Ealdor, his own room, his own little hiding places that he'd found...little memories, little things. Arthur hadn't thought about it much, but it made sense,  _of course_  Merlin had all these things before Camelot, he lived just as he used to, carried on the way he always had, innocent, naive, discovering. He'd had his mother during those first few years, and now he had Arthur. A little change of location, but from Merlin's eyes it probably didn't seem that different. Arthur simply couldn't tell.

"Do you miss him?" Arthur asked. He hoped he hadn't pushed too far.

"Sometimes." A mumble. "But- I'll be seeing him soon, won't I?"

Arthur grinned. "'Course you will."

"And then we play in our old house, and I can show him all the new things I can do, and..and you can be friends, Arthur! You'll just love Will."

"I'm sure I will, Merlin."

There was only a few more miles to Ealdor, they'd get there soon. The scenery was all the same now, just miles and miles of fields and grass and hedges, all just a slightly different shade of green. The conversation died out, but it wasn't uncomfortable; they carried riding steadily on, falling back into the patterns they'd gotten used to over the hours, days. Arthur wondered about what he had left behind in Camelot; there was no doubting now that Uther had discovered what he'd done, but the only comfort Arthur had was that Uther didn't know _where_  he'd gone. So Merlin was safe, for now.

* * *

Arthur didn't know what he'd expected. It was just the same as every other small village that he'd passed through before, full of people and animals and slightly feeble looking houses with hay and dust everywhere. But it was beautiful, and now he was here, Arthur could easily imagine Merlin living out his earlier years here. He walked the horse further towards and into the village, glancing around, avoiding meeting any eyes as they grabbed a few people's attention.

"We're here, Merlin." Arthur muttered, more to himself than to the small boy close behind him. The people clustered in small groups and pairings, an middle-aged bearded man squinting curiously at Arthur, and he started to wonder how many of the people here would recognise him.

"I can't see Will," Merlin mentioned quietly, clutching tightly to Arthur's back.

"Don't worry, he'll be here." Arthur looked around. All the houses were pretty much the same, slanted lines of bricks topped with heavy thatched roofs, surrounded by patchy grass and murky grey fences. "Can you remember which house was his-"

"Prince Arthur?"

Arthur swiveled round in his saddle at the interrupting voice. A man, brown haired, with gingery stubble of a beard pushed off from the wall he had been leaning against. Arthur was slightly surprised at being recognised; he wasn't wearing any armour, after rushing out of bed to rescue Merlin in the dead of night - and not even in his red, Camelot colours, emblazoned with the Pendragon crest. Arthur had never even visited Ealdor before, being in the lands of Essetir, not Camelot. The more he thought about it, the more unusual it seemed that this man knew who he was. Arthur frowned, turning his horse around.

"How do you know me?"

The man's face was expressionless, but Arthur still got the impression he was being judged. He squared his shoulders, looking straight down at the man, and Merlin peeped round Arthur's back shyly. He ignored Arthur's question.

"What business do you have here?" The voice was just as blank, but with hints of something a little like pride. No, not  _pride_ , exactly..he sounded...protective of his village, and it wouldn't have surprised Arthur if he was the 'man-in-charge' around here, firm and unyielding. Arthur stared back, warily - it was a good enough start, but there certainly was doubt to the kind of welcome they were about to receive. Arthur drew breath. Perhaps honesty would be best in this situation; Arthur could tell it would not settle well with this man if he was not straight with him from the very start. And he desperately needed the people of Ealdor's trust, if this plan was going to work. If Merlin's safety was to be insured.

"I have traveled here from Camelot, to bring my friend, Merlin, back to his home." Arthur began, voice becoming stronger with every word. "He is no longer safe in my father's kingdom, for reasons and prejudices I myself am neither proud of nor share." He lifted his hand off the rein to rest over Merlin's own where it held tight by Arthur's belt. It was the anchor he needed to see this through. The man's face hadn't changed, but something almost like surprise or even...Arthur hoped...a little bit of mild respect building in those stern features.

"I have brought him here, hoping you and the people of Ealdor would be gracious and hospitable so as to permit us to stay, for a few days-"

"Merlin... _Emrys?_ _"_

Arthur's eyes widened a little, his little rehearsed speech cut off as the man interrupted. Subconsciously, he held tighter to Merlin's hand, and nodded at the man.

"Merlin Emrys, son of Hunith - who both, my father's physician tells me, used to live here?" Arthur informed. Did this man know Merlin? Or maybe, remember him, or at least...Hunith? That would be the start they needed, find someone who knew Merlin or his mother and then they could settle nicely into life here, stay away from Uther and his search parties and execution and dungeons and everything else they had run away from. They'd build a new life here. Arthur knew they could do it.

The man squinted a little, then tilted his head and Arthur realised he was trying to see Merlin's face - that was currently buried into the side of Arthur's jacket. Arthur was suddenly overcome with a fresh wave of protectiveness for the boy, and almost wanted to shield him from this man - but that was ridiculous, Arthur told himself. The man knew Merlin's surname, and must have known Hunith before she died...he wouldn't be any harm to the boy. Instead, Arthur walked the horse a little closer towards the man, and swung his leg over the animal, jumping down onto the patchy ground. He reached up towards Merlin's outstretched arms and lifted the boy off the saddle to stand beside him. At the sight of Merlin, the man visibly relaxed, and grey-blue eyes softened.

"Merlin..." he said, voice deep and scratchy. Arthur reached down for Merlin's tiny hand, holding it tight, and stroking the soft skin with his calloused thumb.

"It's been quite a while..." The man spoke quieter that time, almost to himself. He knelt down then and looked straight at the boy. "You remember me? Matthew?" Matthew pointed a dirty finger to his chest as he spoke his name. Merlin frowned for a moment, then something must have triggered a memory of the man, because a shy smile crept onto his face. Arthur squeezed his hand gently.

"You used to know him?" Arthur inquired, curious to how this quite stony looking man had formed a friendship with Merlin. They can't have been that close, Merlin would have recognised him sooner - although, Merlin had been a few years younger back then.

Matthew stood back up, gaze lifting off Merlin and settled back on Arthur. "Was an old friend of Hunith's, often saw him about the place - before the accident, of course." The slightly cold look had returned to his eyes, but Arthur didn't think it was out of mistrust or prejudice this time...merely the ghost of Hunith's death. Then the words sunk in, and one in particular struck a discord.

"Hang on..the- the  _accident_?"

Now that Arthur thought about it, he didn't actually know the exact details of how Hunith had passed away...he'd assumed it had been due to illness, or...natural causes, or something. But- there had been an accident? Arthur couldn't expect Merlin to have told him. God, how  _awful_ it must have been...Merlin would have been even younger than he was now, and had to be told that his own mother wasn't going to be around anymore, that he wouldn't see her because she was  _dead..._ which meant her body had stopped working and couldn't keep her alive any longer, so he couldn't stay in his home when she wouldn't be there to look after him. Arthur didn't envy the person who had to tell Merlin those things. He doubted he could have said them if it was down to him. But it was incredible; Merlin wasn't sad, at least not all the time, he still laughed and played and explored and ran after things probably just the same as he had before his mother died. He was simply a little older, a little bigger, and running through a different shade of grass. Hunith's death affected Merlin permanently, ruining a little of that naivety that young children were born with too early on in his life, there was no doubt...but he still somehow managed to keep hold of some of that innocence, finding fascination in the simplest of things and still finding ways to surprise Arthur everyday, and he couldn't be more proud of the boy.

Matthew breathed deeply through his nose, chest heaving and he crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't know?"

Arthur shook his head, feeling out of place in absence of this knowledge. Why hadn't Gaius mentioned anything? Did he not even know? Arthur thought for a second to send Merlin away, protect him from this new information that the bearded man was about to reveal - but there was no where he could let Merlin go to, and to be honest, Arthur didn't think he could bring himself to actually let go of Merlin's hand.

Matthew sighed. "You're going to find out sooner or later, I might as well..."

Arthur waited, quickly trying to ready himself for whatever he was about to hear.

"There was a fire." Matthew began, sounding tired. Arthur felt Merlin's face press against his hip, almost as if he was trying to hide behind Arthur. "Like I said, it was an accident, it was no one's fault - I don't know the exact details, but Hunith must have been cooking or something, and...well. You know how ruthless fire is." Arthur felt his stomach drop. "Something must have caught on the flame, or Hunith had turned her back, or stepped out of the room for a moment...but the next thing we're seeing is smoke streaming out the window and orange light flickering and there's screams all over the place. I was out at the time, but I come riding back in and the whole village is in panic, and Hunith's house is falling apart from the inside. I remember seeing someone pulling Merlin out of the window, but he's kicking and fighting with them, like he's trying to climb back in. The whole room is thick with smoke by then, flames licking against the walls and wooden beams falling down from the ceiling. I guess that's what did it the end, the smoke. And that she couldn't get out."

Arthur swallowed. He wanted the man to stop, but his throat was dry and he couldn't summon the words. His imagination had sprung into action as soon as Matthew had started talking, and Arthur couldn't bare to face the images his mind had conjured up. The second thing Arthur realised was that Merlin was trembling beside him, shaking as he pressed even closer into the side of Arthur's body.  _Shit._ Merlin shouldn't have had to listen to that. Arthur wanted to kick himself, but he just wrapped an arm around the small boy, squeezing the bony shoulder gently, trying to offer some sort of comfort.

Arthur focused back on the man in front of him. A faraway look had settled in those grey-blue eyes, and Arthur couldn't find it in himself to blame him.

"I- I'm sorry." It felt pathetic as Arthur felt his lips form the words, and he knew how much he despised them when he was on the receiving end. But what else should he say?

The man shrugged, but his eyes were still cold. "It's been three years. She was a dear friend, but it was an accident - and we all know too well... nothing could have saved her."

Arthur frowned. It might have been the sleep deprivation, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Matthew was trying to imply something. It was just..an odd phrasing of words, Arthur supposed. After fixing the man with a long, piercing look - he turned, crouching down so he was eye level with Merlin. It made Arthur's heart clench as he noticed how the boy's lip was trembling.

"Merlin," Arthur rubbed his hands up and down Merlin's shoulders, looking him straight in the eye but still trying not to see too much, notice too much of the pain his mother's death had caused him. "Merlin, go and find Will."

Merlin stared at him with wide eyes. "But-"

"It's okay." Arthur interrupted, touching his hand to the boy's cheek for a second, then stood back up. "Go find him, I'll be here when you get back."

Merlin nodded numbly for a moment, bleary blue eyes shining up at Arthur, then he seemed to lighten slightly at the thought of his friend. Giving Arthur a small smile, Merlin then ran off into the village, little feet carrying him off down a gravelly path between two houses. Arthur knew he'd remember where to go.

Matthew's solemn voice pulled Arthur's attention back.

"Did you say- Will?"

Arthur squared his shoulders. He'd forgotten for a second that the bearded man had been there listening to them. "What's it to you?" he countered, and through all the stress and exhaustion, he found his words coming out sharper than he'd intended.

Again, Matthew ignored Arthur's retort. "And...Merlin's gone to look for him." The sternness in his voice had softened somehow, sounding much quieter, again like it was to himself. Arthur's eyebrows knitted together in another frown.

"So?!"

An uneasy look crept onto Matthew's usually expressionless features, slanting them all downwards, and yet his words still came out smooth as ever.

"William's been dead for almost a year."

A punchline. Literally. If Arthur had thought his stomach couldn't have sunk any further, if he thought he couldn't receive any more bad news, then he was wrong. This was worse, _somehow.._ this felt so much worse. Yet another vicious blow to the gut, another thing they didn't anticipate. There was no way Arthur could have seen this coming, no way..he kept telling himself over and over and over that this time-  _this time,_ it wasn't his fault.  _Don't start beating yourself up over something you had nothing to do with_. This was the last thing he and Merlin needed, it was hard enough for the boy to have to be orphaned and have to leave home, then have an axe hovering over his head everywhere he went for something he was  _born_ with, then have to flee in the dead of night just to escape execution - and now to find that his best friend, his last scrap of family...was  _dead._ No child should have had to go through so much in so little time. No one ever, no adult nor child alike. Arthur's heart ached for the boy, it consumed him...just the same way it always did nowadays when he had nothing else to think about or was done blaming himself for things for the evening. It was a constant thought in Arthur's head. There was no getting rid of it, it would always be there, causing an unreachable itch in the back of his mind. _..that Merlin has gone through all this, at his age, and is still finding strength to carry on_. It was incredible, absolutely incredible and just...devastatingly sad. He didn't look it, Merlin, but he had so much fight inside of him, not even just for a child but in comparison to anyone. In comparison to Arthur, even. Yes, he'd lost his mother when he was born...but Merlin had lost his mother, father, best friend and freedom in a quarter of the years Arthur had even been alive. It made Arthur mad, it drove him up the walls at times, he cursed the kingdom, cursed Camelot, cursed his father, hating every last thing that had put Merlin to any harm, ever. Merlin was strong, Arthur knew..it just-  _shouldn't_  be necessary. Merlin was a child, he didn't deserve any of this, he was at the age when you weren't supposed to care about big things, you had that right, you were  _allowed_  to be naive and carefree and selfish and all those other things that you had to rein in when you grew up. And now, Merlin had to go through more crap than most adults ever had to, and it kept snatching away precious time when he could have spent just  _being a child._ No mother. No father. And now Will was gone too.

It just  _wasn't fair._  Arthur wanted to scream. He wanted to find Merlin, make sure he was-

_Merlin_. Who was looking for Will. Who he would never find.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice cracked. He wondered for a moment why everything was swimming, why Matthew's form in front of him was blurry at the edges – then faintly realised that he was crying, or at least going to start any time soon. That wasn't something he wanted Matthew to see. He staggered back, blinking, trying to focus on moving his feet, trying to get to Merlin…it was like the arrest all over again, thoughts becoming hazy in his head and freezing him to the spot.

"I need to...I should.." Arthur was mumbling, trying to force his legs to move. He assembled his thoughts enough to think and began to stride away from Matthew down the path Merlin had led.

"Hey, Pendragon - leave it."

Arthur wheeled back round, facing Matthew, his own blue eyes wide matching those grey, cold ones."What?!" Arthur spat out, hardly believing his ears. Matthew didn't even flinch at the incredulous look flashing across Arthur's face, a look that quickly descended into sheer outrage.

"You should leave it alone. Leave  _him_ alone." Matthew's voice had fallen back into that sullen, emotionless tone. Arthur  _hated_ it.

"What- what do you mean _?_!" Arthur spoke slowly, but he was pretty sure he knew what the man meant; he just refused to believe it. There was no way he could be that cold.

Matthew scowled, stepping forward and staring Arthur straight in his eyes. "You've brought him here. And I'm grateful. But he's safe now, and he doesn't need you anymore." Matthew squinted his eyes, as if seizing Arthur up, judging his reaction to his words. "Go back to Camelot."

Trying to calm down before he began yelling at the man a foot or so in front of him, Arthur swallowed heavily and attempted to control his breathing. How  _dare_ he, how dare he suggest that Arthur should just up and leave now, after all he'd done, not now he'd grown so attached to the boy, loved him more than he loved- Arthur's throat constricted, listening to his own thoughts. He loved Merlin more than he loved his father; it was clear now. He couldn't ever leave him.

"That's-  _ridiculous_...I can't leave him." Arthur stood his ground, trying to steady his voice. "I won't."

Matthew wasn't swayed. "You'll have to. Every second you're here with him, or even in the village - he's in danger. Do you really think Uther's going to just let you run off?"

"There's no way that I'm-"

"Are you not listening? Uther's going to find you here sooner or later...and Merlin- there's no guarantee Merlin's going to be so lucky next time."

Arthur stared at him. He knew there was an element of truth to what the man was saying, but he wasn't about to admit that. And anyway - Uther wouldn't call off the search parties if Arthur returned, they might just be less persistant. But they would eventually find Merlin, the danger was still there even if Arthur wasn't with Merlin. Uther's men would still be on their way for the little sorcerer, and Arthur wanted to be right beside him when they found him. He cleared his throat, holding Matthew's gaze as steady as he could.

"Uther's coming, whether I'm here or not." Arthur prayed he sounded more confident than he currently felt. He took another long breath, hoping to get through the conversation without punching the man where he stood. "And I'm not leaving Merlin alone to deal with it on his own."

He stepped back then, away from Matthew, and broke into a jog down the dusty path without a second glance. No one could ever convince him to leave that boy; not now, not ever. The village was unfamiliar, several tumble-down, grey shackles of houses scatted around on his left and right, but he followed the path as it weaved in and out of them all. His heart was thumping in his ears, and little shards of gravel were kicking up into his boots, he could feel it under his soles. Pounding round a corner, Arthur almost ran into something, stumbling backwards instead and focused his gaze down.

" _Merlin_."

The boy had his arms drawn close to his sides, almost hugging himself where he stood in the middle of the path, and little fingers had already begun worrying the hem of his dirty tunic again, pulling at loose threads. He looked shocked at Arthur's sudden arrival at his side, and those wide, blue eyes were blinking up at the prince, but they were dry. He didn't look sad, just a little lost and..and confused, and Arthur start cursing in his head again, hating that he was to be the one who had to tell Merlin, but also slightly grateful at the same time.

"Arthur," Merlin piped up, yet still looking slightly puzzled. "Arthur, I can't find him, I can't find Will anywhere!"

Arthur's heart ached.

"He lives here, but there's no one around, I can't find him - I even went to all...to all our places! He isn't anywhere!" His tiny hands jumped up away from his shirt to gesture round at the deserted village.

"Merlin.." Those bleary, blue eyes were too much. They were searching for answers in Arthur's own, but there wasn't anything. He could hardly speak.

"Have you seen him, Arthur? He's- he's got brown hair, a  _tiny_ bit taller than me, only a  _tiny_ _, TINY_ bit, because I am not small, no matter what Will says."

Arthur balled his hands into fists by his sides, because pulling Merlin into a hug would be too obvious. But of course, Arthur would have to tell him soon. Tell him now. _Do it._

Merlin was still rambling. "Maybe he's out in..out in the woods? Do you think, Arthur?"

_Tell him now!_

"Arthur?"

Arthur swallowed, but it was rough, it hurt - his mouth was completely dry. He reached out, and took Merlin's cold hand in his own and squeezed it tight, and the boy clutched back in response.

"Come on, Merlin. I know where he is."


	7. Chapter 7

**oh I believe in you**

**these places they have changed**

**I don't know anything but you know me**

* * *

Arthur wasn't sure where he was going. He just concentrated on keeping his legs moving, holding tight onto the boy's hand which was slightly clammy against his palm and led Merlin back down the gravel path between the two houses, brain scrambling furiously as he tried to latch onto a single straight thought. They somehow arrived back in the centre of the village, and Arthur made their way over to where Matthew had tied up his horse. The man himself had disappeared and although Arthur didn't miss his absence, he still needed to speak with him.

"Arthur?"

Merlin was tugging slightly with their conjoined hands, but Arthur barely heard him. He couldn't bring himself to say it, he couldn't be the one to tell Merlin where his friend really was. He simply grit his teeth and ignored Merlin's protests, as much as he hated himself, and wandered casually through an open door to one of the ramshackle houses. Arthur tried to form some sort of plan in his head...first, find Matthew. Get Merlin settled somewhere, make sure he had a place to sleep. Then maybe...maybe, Arthur could pull his thoughts together and try breaking the news to Merlin...god, it made him feel sick just thinking about it. That horrid, sinking feeling of dread when you know there's something coming that you have to go through, or do, or say..and you know you  _have_  to do it, there's no backing out, you have to just  _do it_ , like yanking a thorn out of your foot. And Arthur wished he could skip over the whole thing, just lie and invent some story, that Will had left the village, and wouldn't be coming back...or was dreadfully ill and Merlin couldn't see him for fear of infection...it would be  _so easy_ , Arthur thought. Merlin was naive. Innocent. He trusted Arthur. He'd believe whatever Arthur told him.

But there was no way Arthur could do it; lie straight to the boy's face, look in those deep, drowning eyes and actually  _lie,_ after everything they'd been through.  _Merlin trusted Arthur._ Trusted him to tell him the truth, and if Arthur just made something up to..to.. _spare_ his  _innocence_ , or save him from that extra pain, or whatever excuse Arthur would use to get out of it - that trust was worth nothing. Merlin  _deserved_  better, deserved the truth...and if Arthur didn't tell him, and soon, it was just insulting.

So it was settled. Arthur would do it, today. Sit Merlin down and tell him and hold him and assure him that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was going to be okay, in the end. It was simple, Arthur could do that, sure.

Arthur looked down at the boy.

"Where is he, Arthur?" Merlin asked, blue eyes shining, a sharp contrast to that pale, luminous skin and the shock of black hair. "You said you knew where he was."

_Crap_.

He couldn't do this.

Arthur breathed deeply out through his nose, eyes staring at a small spot above Merlin's ear, not trusting himself to look at those eyes. "Erm, Merlin...well-"

"Hey, Pendragon."

Arthur whipped round, practically gasping in relief, only stopping to revel in the fact that he was actually pleased to see the bearded man again. Yes, it was selfish and shallow and completely unfair to Merlin, and Arthur cursed himself for acting so cowardly, but he was  _so_  glad for the interruption. He couldn't bare to face it yet.

The man was leaning against a door frame at the opposite end of the room, eyes glancing from Arthur, to Merlin, and back to Arthur again, features slowly settling into a frown as he did so. Arthur started to worry...what was he looking at? What was it? Was there something- something...oh.

_Oh._

Then, Matthew started shaking his head slowly, and the bottom of Arthur's stomach fell through.

"Disappointing, I must say." Matthew noted, casually, and if Arthur didn't know any better, he'd think that the man was almost  _sneering_  at him. Arthur balled his other hand back into a fist, and clenched tighter on the one in Merlin's palm, but the man clearly didn't know how to take a hint. "And people always said that the Pendragons were  _brave_."

Arthur grit his teeth, and tried to calm his breathing - but there was nothing he could do to stop the blood pulsing in his neck, in his temple, teasing little muscles in his face to twitch. Merlin fidgeted beside him, shuffling his small feet on the dusty floor, and Arthur attempted to steer the conversation away from dangerous waters.

"Do you have a place we can stay, or not?" he ground out, again inwardly congratulating himself on staying civil and not knocking the man's front teeth out. But it didn't do much to soothe the niggling ache in the corner of his mind that was dancing around singing  _coward, coward, coward..._

Matthew's half-sneer slid off his face, and the familiar cold expression of contempt and mistrust replaced it. "You'll be here." He nodded with a jut of his chin to the bed backed up against the wall. Arthur couldn't tell if the man was speaking to Merlin this time, or just didn't care if Arthur felt unwelcome. There certainly was no way Arthur was going to complain and ask for a second bed.

_...coward..._

"Thank you." Arthur replied with a curt nod of his head. The words sounded fake on his tongue, and he knew he should really care more and put more effort into sounding appreciative - after all, Matthew was the one who was giving them this little sanctuary, but he was also the man who had told Arthur to desert Merlin, insulted his family and generally wasn't making things any easier. Never the less, they would be homeless without him; yet Arthur couldn't stand the thought of owing Matthew their lives.

Arthur reluctantly let go of Merlin's hand and let him scamper over to the bedside, watching with a small smile as the boy spread out on the sheets and let out a long sigh, eyes screwed up in delight. A couple of nights sleeping on tree roots and moss made you take any kind of proper bedding as a blessing. Arthur wished nothing more than to lie down beside the boy, hold him close as they finally got a full night's rest, without danger hovering over them at last...but he couldn't, not now, he couldn't show that kind of weakness in front of Matthew. And...Arthur thought with that familiar sense of dread - he still had the  _news_  to confess to Merlin.

_...coward, coward, coward..._

"So...did you not find Will?"

Arthur wrenched his gaze off Merlin, who was now sitting up on the bed against the wall, and struggled not to scowl at Matthew. He knew exactly what he was doing, he knew how to push Arthur - but he was determined not to snap, certainly not in front of Merlin. Matthew's expression was as cold as ever, but those grey-blue eyes were almost sparkling as he taunted, still refusing to lift his gaze from the prince. Arthur dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, digging in until it hurt but not quite enough to break the skin. He sank daggers with his eyes into Matthew, then flickered over to where Merlin sat, wide-eyed and puzzled, now perking up with interest in the conversation at the mention of his best friend.

_...COWARD..._

Arthur couldn't force his brain to work fast enough. He simply stood gaping at the both of them, Merlin kneeling on the bed and Matthew glaring back at him, and tried desperately to pull himself together and say something to escape this situation. Unfortunately, Merlin beat him to it.

"Oh, Arthur- Arthur knows where he is! He told me!" the boy cried out, bouncing slightly on his knees. It was like Matthew's face woke up, eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline, and he glanced round briefly to see Merlin; full of hope and round, blue eyes, then snapped back to Arthur.

"Oh, he told you, did he?!"

Matthew's taunts made Arthur want to rip his hair out, just the sound of his scornful voice itched at his blood, slowly driving him insane. Arthur didn't think he could cope for much longer - but apparently the man wasn't finished.

"Well, that's that, then." Matthew stepped forward, a few metres away from Arthur, still not taking his eyes off him, and his voice lowered. "It's so good that Merlin has someone who's honest with him, don't you think?"

Arthur didn't break the eye contact. He'd lasted this long, he wasn't going to back down now. "Leave him alone." he muttered, as quiet yet as threatening as he could. Hopefully Merlin wouldn't pick up this particular part of the conversation, Arthur begged silently.

Matthew just sneered a little more. "That's what you should be doing." he returned, and strode past Arthur back towards the open door. He reached it, then turned back to meet Arthur's eyes once again.

"His food's on the table," he said quietly, then stepped out the doorway with one last glance at the little raven haired boy on the bed.

* * *

Arthur was back where he started.

To be fair, both times it was his own, stupid, noble fault – but it didn't matter; there he lay, bunched up close to the side of Merlin's bed on the dusty floor, doing his best to ignore little stray stones that dug into his back.

He'd let Merlin eat, refusing to take any of it for himself and simply sat enjoying the quiet, little safety of their new room. It would do, for now, Arthur thought. It wasn't anything like he was used to, and Arthur already missed his soft, royal bed sheets and the never ending supply of delicious, freshly cooked food, the peaceful reassurance of the castle walls. Camelot was his home, that would never change; Arthur just wasn't sure that it was where he was supposed to be any longer. He could never forgive his father for what he'd done, never forget it, the merciless act and hateful words were burned into Arthur's memory. Because of his father, Arthur now knew what Merlin's face looked like screaming, pleading for his life...begging and-

Swallowing heavily, Arthur shifted his weight on the floor. The pale, luminous skin of Merlin's fingers hung just above Arthur, where his wrist was sticking out at an angle over the edge of the bed. It was only mid-afternoon, still light outside, but they both found themselves to be so physically and mentally exhausted, that nothing else seemed as appealing than just sinking down into sleep. Merlin had fallen first, sprawled out on the old bed beside the wall -

Tear streaked, his screams bouncing off the cold, grey stone as -

Rugged cream blankets twisted around his ankles...the same position Arthur had found him in as he walked back into the room after checking on the horse. Arthur hadn't had the heart to wake the boy, who looked so untroubled as he slept, face wiped clear of any emotion save from a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. So he'd just lain down -

In the dungeons, in a cell, cold as it had always looked when Arthur used to speak to the guards there. He never thought he'd ever have to step inside one of them, let alone break someone out, crack the chains off their bleeding ankles...their bleeding wrists

\- on the dirty floor beside the bed, and used the time to summon the strength and the words he'd need once Merlin woke. He still had to tell him, and the guilt was eating Arthur from the inside out.

Despite everything, Arthur couldn't help a smile creep onto his face. As the afternoon sunlight shone in the window, the rays hit Merlin's hand, making the blood glow pink under the skin; Arthur stared up at them, dangling just above his chest, and couldn't resist from reaching up his own hand as if to touch at the motionless fingers.

_"Tell it again, Arthur."_

Curling his index, Arthur brushed the back of his finger against the soft skin of Merlin's own, just a tiny bit, and then pulled back as if the gentle movement could possibly have woken the boy. If Arthur twisted his head just so, he could see the mess of raven hair where Merlin's head lay back on the bed, still sleeping soundly. He wondered what the boy was dreaming of.

_Merlin inched closer, eyes flashing cheekily._

_"Tell me about...about what we're going to do,"_ _he nuzzled his face into Arthur's shoulder. This was always his favourite thing to hear about after-_

He slipped his gaze back to Merlin's pale fingers, lifting his own up to skim against one finger, a small caress from the little knuckle to the tip of the nail. Arthur's own hand seemed huge in comparison, his palm lined and worn, skin rougher and fingertips calloused from wielding a sword every day for almost two decades. But the touch was gentle, tentative as he held the tips of each tiny, pale finger between his own finger and thumb, tracing invisible patterns over the skin. Arthur weaved his touch over and under each finger, round the nail and up towards the palm, where his skin was even softer.

_"And! And, you'll be King! Won't you!"_ _The boy interrupted, fidgeting where he sat tucked into Arthur's side. He smiled, with light touches to the curling raven hair and-_

Arthur's fingers kept exploring, small brushes of his fingertips over the tiny, new lines on Merlin's palm, following each little bump of his knuckles and dragging his fingernails in ticklish circles across the skin. He was so precious, Arthur thought. So much had set out to crush the boy, destroy all his hope, all his innocence, yet none had succeeded…Merlin hurt, of course he did, and he'll hurt even more in the morning as Arthur delivers yet another blow – but he'd made it this far, and he wasn't broken. Not yet.

It felt like they were constantly catching up, always a little bit behind time; as soon as they evaded one obstacle there'd be another thrown in their direction, before they'd even steadied their footing. It was exhausting. Arthur wished little moments like this, in the cool air of the afternoon with rays of light falling through the window and the both of them side by side, Arthur holding onto Merlin's hand…wished that they could last forever, live in them always -

_Clutching tighter, Arthur spoke his promises quietly. "You won't have to hide any longer."_

He knew he'd never be bored, he'd give up being royal and the throne and all that Camelot and his father had ever meant to him, in an instant…if it meant he could spend just a little more time with Merlin. He could die happy. Nothing else seemed to matter much anymore...well. Arthur knew that that wasn't  _really_  true - but he did know that everything would be a little more pointless if Merlin wasn't running out in the grass chasing butterflies somewhere while it all carried on.

Arthur didn't want Merlin to wake. Merlin waking would mean that they would start talking, and if they were talking Arthur would have to tell Merlin about…about Will. He curled all four long fingers round the boy's hand, clutching ever-so lightly, soaking his own warmth into the cold, little bones – and heard Merlin's body stir slightly on the bed, moving around in his sleep. As he did so, the fabric of his sleeve shifted letting the reaching sunlight from the window seep up his wrist, exposing more, and Arthur drew in a sharp breath.

Red, biting marks stood out sharp against the porcelain skin, two inch gashes against the bone that trailed like a dashed line around Merlin's wrist, following the swollen bruises that had started to blossom. The purple edges of the cuts were glazing over with a thin sheen of fresh skin, but they hadn't managed to heal the deepest area of the damage, which still glistened crimson in the afternoon light. Arthur felt a fresh wave of nausea settle as the implications of this sunk in...there must have been a second pair of handcuffs, ones that had been removed before Arthur had arrived. There had only been chains round Merlin's ankles when Arthur had broken into his cell.

Arthur had seen this kind of thing before, on prisoners, on fugitives, but never this bad - but, of course, that made sense. Merlin wasn't a hardened criminal, whose skin had toughened over the years of unmerciful, rough metal digging into their flesh - or even just an adult, who might have survived an arrest without any major wounds. He was a child, with a child's delicate skin and skinny bones and neither of which shouldn't have had to go under this..this kind of  _torture_  to the flesh, this -

_Shock of black against the green, and round, blue eyes that turned to gaze up at Arthur from where he sat, grinning_ _widely and -_

Trailing his fingertips closer up the boy's wrist, a feather touch around the tender, sore skin, Arthur let go of the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. His fingertips padded lightly at the healing skin, as if to heal them faster, which in the end, was all Arthur wanted. But over and over again, he seemed to just aggravate things more and bring up untold stories and secrets and ghosts that really should have stayed far below, where -

_Against his skin, Arthur could feel the warmth of Merlin's hair, and he smiled as he murmured to the little boy._

_"And you'll be amazing. We'll be -"_

Safe, Arthur thought. Until they were safe, and Merlin was healed, inside and out. Then it could happen.

Arthur let his fingers drop back, linking them between Merlin's smaller ones and let his thumb brush against the knuckles, the back of his hand, until he felt reassured once again. Arthur didn't want to talk, didn't want to think, but of course, the latter was always so much harder to turn off. But for now, he tried to enjoy the little peace of the moment, the soft skin of Merlin's palm, his little fingernails, the gashes of red the only reminder of what was past, and what Arthur had yet to do. And it was with that thought, and with his hand in Merlin's, that Arthur drifted off.

* * *

His hand felt colder, emptier.

That was his first thought, and his second was that something was shoving his shoulder, and a voice -  _Merlin's_  voice, Arthur realised.

"Arthur!"

He opened his eyes. It was much darker in the room now, well into the evening, as the wall he was staring at blearily was a blur of navy shades and shadows that lurked in the corner, and Arthur's back  _ached._ He rolled over, and was met with round, blazing eyes, wider and brighter now he'd slept; Arthur smiled weakly at Merlin, who was kneeling on the edge of the bed, peering down at the prince in his half-sleep state. One hand was clutching at the side of the bed, the other rested gently on Arthur's shoulder, and both, with those hateful cuts dashed around each wrist. He didn't know how he hadn't spotted them before.

"You okay, Merlin?" Arthur mumbled groggily, rubbing the back of his neck and pushing up into a sitting position. The boy served well each time he got a few more hours rest, and now he was closest to looking like he normally did, like he should do. Skin; a creamy porcelain rather than dangerously pale - eyes, a radiant shade of blue, vibrant and hopeful...rather than bloodshot and feeble.

"Yeah," Merlin replied softly. "Bit cold, though."

Arthur groaned a bit, and stretched out his legs to force some kind of life into them. He pushed himself up, and stood beside Merlin's bed, looking with tired eyes at the small boy.

"Can I?" Arthur gestured at the bed. Even with the old, unraveling sheets and hard wooden frame, it looked so comfy, and Arthur was too tired and his body ached too much to remember to be selfless.

Merlin nodded, shifting along towards the foot of the bed to make room, and Arthur sunk down onto it, still warm from Merlin's body. He laid down, but propped up on his elbows to stare at the boy, smiling a little at the way the evening moon light shone round his pale face. Merlin was fiddling with his tunic again, wrapping the stray thread round and round his index finger until the cut of his blood circulation turned his skin white where the thread dug into his flesh.

"Merlin," Arthur murmured into the dark. He didn't know what he was going to say, but he knew he had to say something. The boy stopped tugging on the thread, letting it fall slack and allowing the blood to flow back to his fingertips.

"You won't be able to see Will."

Where the words were coming from, Arthur didn't know - but he was grateful for them, he had to finish now, there was no ducking out. It felt like a weight off his chest, and even the guilt had begun to recoil...but he wasn't done yet. He sat up properly, crossing his legs and facing the small boy's profile. But then Arthur realised - he knew what he had to say, because he'd heard this speech so many times, in varying degrees of accuracy as he'd aged. First, when he was very young, and he'd asked his father -

_"Where's my mummy?"_

_Uther looked down at the small boy at his feet. He looked sad, but Arthur didn't know why._

_"Arthur, your mother isn't around anymore. You can't see her."_

_Then, Arthur would frown, and try and understand._

Merlin's head had snapped to him at his words, and that blue was piercing through Arthur despite the dark light of the room. Arthur Pendragon was  _not_  a coward, he could see this through, he  _will -_

"You can't see him." Arthur continued ruefully, hating his words, hating the look that was blooming in Merlin's eyes, spreading over his face. "Ever again."

Merlin just looked confused, shocked even, not realising the implication's of Arthur's words. He turned, lifting his legs up onto the bed and mirrored Arthur's position.

"But.." he blurted out, an almost  _pleading_  look filling up his brilliant, blue orbs.

Arthur simply looked at him, not wanting to say the his next line. He reached forward and took Merlin's quivering hands in his own, clutching them tight as -

_Uther strode into Arthur's chambers, calling his name out over and over again, with more urgency each time. Arthur groaned and dove further underneath his covers, glaring at the cream fabric as he heard his father approach. The other boys, from the village, had been doing it again, shouting at him, teasing, asking where his mother was._

_And Arthur didn't know._

" _Why?_ " Merlin whispered, leaning forward slightly. His lip started trembling, and Arthur would have given anything in the world to not have to say what he knew he had to say. It was  _too much_ , too much for Merlin to handle, to go through  _again_ , not after everything he'd survived. He'd come so far. Suffered too much.

"Because...he's gone."

Merlin seemed to shrink in on himself, and Arthur's heart ached. He couldn't bear to see the those crystal blue eyes start swimming, but he wasn't going to back down and glance away. He had to be strong for Merlin, when the boy couldn't do it for himself, when Arthur shattered his little world once again, crushing every -

_Last time, Uther had simply ignored him, changed the subject. Arthur knew his father, never really showed proper emotion, never wanting to seem_ weak _. It was ridiculous - he knew Uther was closed off, even cold, but Arthur had so many questions...and it was his mother._

_So he'd gone to Leon._

_"Arthur, I really think you should be talking with your father about this."_

_Arthur groaned, rolling his eyes. "He won't talk to me about it!" he protested. "I've being trying to get him to talk to me about it ever since I could- well, ask questions! Don't you think if I'd succeeded I wouldn't be asking you right now?!"_

_Leon looked pained, torn, but Arthur couldn't find it in him to feel any sympathy for the man. He hadn't been living his whole life in the dark, without anyone to ask or anyone to talk to about it, or even, as if it needed mentioning, without a_ mother _._

_Leon sighed, and Arthur looked up, hopeful._

_"Her majesty, Queen Ygraine, died..." The man hesitated, looking unsure. "Your mother, Arthur...died giving birth to you."_

_Arthur's breath was knocked out of him. Leon looked away._

_"I'm...so sorry- that your father wasn't the one to tell you."_

Merlin finally broke eye contact, his intense gaze falling down to their conjoined hands instead. Arthur could still feel him shaking.

"No...no, Arthur- you're wrong, you-"

" _Mer_ lin." Arthur squeezed his hands around the boy's. "He is. He's dead- he's  _gone_."

Neither of them said anything for a while, but Arthur didn't mind, he knew he'd have to be patient. The evening was drawing in even darker now, the cold air turning each of their breaths into faint puffs of smoke. The bed creaked a little and the sheets rustled as Merlin inched forward; face now closer to Arthur's chest, his tiny feet brushing against Arthur's shins.

Merlin's hands twitched.

"Like...like Mother?"

The boy spoke so quietly in the dark, lips barely moving but it was deadly silent in the room and Arthur heard every word. He shuddered, knowing that Merlin finally understood.

"Yes, like her."

His hands clenched, tiny fingers pressing tighter and tighter round Arthur's palm, but it wasn't painful - just steady, constant, unwavering. Arthur was grateful for it, in fact, only too eager to hold on; Merlin  _needed_  it, and didn't seem to want to let go. The boy drew in a sharp breath, and Arthur felt something drop onto the back of his hand, then two more again in quick succession. He glanced down, copying Merlin and stared at their hands, watching curiously as more teardrops rolled off Merlin's cheeks and splashed into little droplets on Arthur's skin.

He concentrated on breathing. Soothing Merlin's trembling fingers, Arthur used his thumb to brush against their hands, rubbing the salt of Merlin's tears into their skin; over the boy's tiny knuckles, over Arthur's rough palm, soaking -

_Uther's voice rang out across his chambers, echoing menacingly._

_"I said, enough! Get OUT!"_

_Arthur flinched, stumbling back, and stared blankly at his father. Maybe he'd pushed too far, this time, maybe that was one question -_

Too much, Arthur thought. This was too much for anyone. He unhooked one of his hands, and used it to tilt Merlin's chin up to look straight at those helpless blue eyes, throat closing up as he stared right into the thick of it, the centre of the boy's pain. It was unbearable, Arthur could hardly think, his breath staggered and ragged.

"Oh-h..Merlin..." Arthur murmured, shaking his head and trying to will his tears away, then wrapped his arm fully round Merlin's bony shoulders, pulling him closer towards his chest and gripping him tight. Merlin still held on to Arthur's hand, trapped between their bodies and the other clutched at the prince's tunic, rapidly becoming soaked from Merlin's tears. Arthur only held on more, never wanting to let go of the boy, like it was-

_All he'd wanted was to ask one question about his mother. Just one. And maybe...finally, after all these years of miserable silence and forcibly changing the subject - finally, get an answer._

_But his father had simply shut him out, like he'd always done his entire life, only this time was harder and firmer than ever before. Arthur must have touched a nerve, he thought, screwing his eyes up to block the tears - tears were weakness, his father had said. Pendragons did not show weakness.  
_

_Arthur clutched his arms tighter around his side, his knees, holding himself together as he slide down against the door - as if he was afraid he'd fall apart if he didn't. He wasn't sure-_

They could do it.

"Shush...now," he hummed.

Arthur was sure.

"It's okay...it's okay, I've got you..." he murmured into the boy's hair, each other's warmth seeping into the other's skin. "I'm not going anywhere, Merlin."

They could make it through this night, like this, holding each other in the dim darkness of the evening until it didn't hurt anymore.

They could make it until morning.


	8. Chapter 8

 

**the carpet on my cheek feels like a forest**

**and I run through the tall trees with your hand chasing me**

* * *

_"ARTHUR!"_

_He winced. Never, ever was it a good thing to hear his father sound like that. Arthur stepped forward timidly through the door way, feeling much smaller than he did normally, his surroundings seeming just a little taller, looming and daunting around him._

_The view wasn't any better than the voice. Uther's lined, tense face glared down at him, albeit considerably younger than Arthur saw it last. The expression was just the same, still that bitter disappointment, still that...anger, just a little higher, a different angle than Arthur remembered._

_Uther launched forward, seizing Arthur's skinny wrist in his firm grip and spitting out words through barred teeth...but Arthur could no longer hear it. Pounding against his temples, Uther's voice rang round Arthur's head, yet he couldn't latch onto any words, couldn't string a sentence together from all that noise...his vision was becoming blurry at the edges - he forced himself to look up into his father's face. Arthur gulped, feeling that familiar mixture of fear and shame whenever he let his father down - it pressed hard on his chest, too hard, harder than before, crushing him - and his wrist ached, the grip was too tight, his blood rushed to the surface where those thick fingers were clamped around it, tingling...and his father was still shouting, it echoed round Arthur's ears, all the incoherent words blending into a repeated cry of Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur-_

Arthur's hand was numb, save from the way it was persistently throbbing every second and he ached to stretch it out. He must have slept on it, Arthur thought, opening his eyes a fraction to ease them into the piercing light. He tried moving his fingers, but found that they were inter-weaved around a set of smaller ones -  _Merlin's fingers_ , he realised, remembering their conversation a few hours before. Arthur blinked a few times, cracking his eyes wide open and peered down at the boy on his chest. They were on the bed, Merlin curled up and tucked into Arthur's side, their arms trapped between them where they had fallen asleep still with hands entwined. Explained the numbness, Arthur thought. He shuffled a little on the bed, stretching his shoulders as much as he could without disturbing Merlin, and smiled as the boy murmured in his sleep and nuzzled his face into fabric of Arthur's tunic. It wasn't so dark now; the earliest, bravest rays of morning light had started to seep in through the window, beginning to bathe the contours of Merlin's face, his skin, his torn, bloodied wrists in the shy, yellow light. Arthur brought his other hand up, the one that wasn't holding onto Merlin's, and brushed his fingertips over the cuts on Merlin's wrist, where it rested on Arthur's chest, looking down at the angry marks with regret. Where the flaking rust must have made the metal stick out at jagged angles, tearing against the soft skin as Merlin's struggled against the chains. These physical wounds would heal,  _were_  healing - but the hurt inflicted emotionally on the boy...it was too much this time. Merlin wouldn't heal, he couldn't- couldn't possibly come back from this. Not completely.

Arthur sighed, a flutter of breath ghosting over the back of his hand, and the exposed skin where the neckline of his tunic stopped. He lifted Merlin's hand gently, bringing it up towards his mouth as he tilted his head forward...and pressed a small kiss onto Merlin's wrist, feeling under his lips where the skin was soft, unblemished, and where it broke. The boy shifted in his sleep, pale eyelids flickering and little fingers twitching in Arthur's palm. He squeezed them tighter, then let go of one to let it lay back on his chest, and brought his hand up to touch at Merlin's hair instead. It was impossibly soft, light and silken under Arthur's rough fingertips and he found, with only a little surprise, he was content, for now, to simply lie there with the small boy, forgetting everything for a while.

The small moment of serenity didn't last for long though, just as Arthur knew it wouldn't but didn't quite want to believe yet. Merlin stirred beside him just as the yellow rays spilled over the ledge of the window, casting them both into shades of shadow and the new morning light. Arthur dipped his head down to look at the boy, who had started squirming in Arthur's arms now the final dregs of sleep had released him, and smiled softly, still stroking Merlin's hair. The boy blinked, then once again, then a blinding grin broke out as his bleary eyes took in Arthur, who was watching him fondly. But then, it changed; that little glimmer of light seemed to dim in Merlin's gaze and the smile slowly slid off his face...and Arthur's heart sank. He knew Merlin was remembering. Arthur squeezed tighter on their entwined hands and traced a path round Merlin's ears from his curling raven hair to the bottom of his chin, and tilted Merlin's face up so he could make sure his words sunk in.

"Merlin." Arthur's voice was quiet, tender, and only just a little croaky from sleep. He stared at the boy, his gaze flicking from one gleaming blue eye to another. He was such a beautiful child, Arthur thought. He wished he could just wrap him up in his arms and lie in the long grass to watch the sun circle them in an arch in the sky and then curl up inside by the fire at night, talking and laughing and sharing stories and thinking of all the things they were going to go out and do the next day and how incredible it would be. Uther didn't matter. Camelot didn't matter, not really. They could start their own kingdom, smaller scale. Just him and Merlin.

"It's a new day."

Merlin just stared at him, worrying his lower lip with those tiny pearls of teeth, then nodded, smiling weakly, one which Arthur returned. He leaned forward and placed a firm kiss to Merlin's forehead, ruffling the black hair as he drew back, then shuffled his torso so that he was sitting up on the bed, leaning back on one hand. Arthur chuckled when Merlin let out a groan as he was forced to move, feeling the loss of the small body beside him immediately and the empty feeling in Arthur's palm - Merlin had finally let go.

Arthur was going to try today. They were going to go out, do all those things he'd just day dreamed about idly in the small hours of the past few days...he was going to help Merlin put the past behind him, help ease the pain of all the memories of this place and go out and create some new ones. Arthur was determined.

That morning, he tried to slip into some sort of routine, pulling Merlin up from the bed with a grumble and they ate and drank some of their leftover food, Arthur only realising then just how hungry he'd been. They hadn't seen Matthew since the afternoon previously, and Arthur was really hoping they wouldn't run into him again, but he'd have to at some point. Either for more food or for weapons or simply just an awkward acknowledgement when they passed in the village square. But what they really needed was a few more friendly faces, and Arthur knew that wouldn't be too difficult in a remote village like this with little, adorable Merlin in tow - it was just a question of being brave and going out and making new acquaintances all the while knowing that their only one so far no longer wanted Arthur there.

Bravery. A Pendragon trait, of course. His father had taught him to be brave, to face his enemies, to go into battle without fear. But now- after breaking Merlin out, running from his father, telling Merlin about Will - Arthur doubted he'd ever known the meaning of  _brave_ before now.

Merlin had hardly spoken since they'd awoken, and the silence itched at Arthur's nerves. So he'd wrapped up the rest of their food, which was mostly Matthew's supplies now Leon's had been used up hours ago, and taken the boy's hand and they walked out into the village. The morning light glowed through the clouds at the horizon, now the sun had fully risen proud and unwavering from below the horizon, and it was like the entire village had lit up - each colour shone, so different from the grey-scale of the night before. It was just early enough so that he could still hear a few birds chattering in the lower branches, but late enough into the morning that more and more people were beginning to appear dotted around the ramble shack houses. Arthur managed a small smile at each that glanced his way.

"Oh, Arthur - look!"

Merlin's voice brought Arthur's attention back to ground level, where the boy was knelt down in front of a small chicken, of all things...where had it come from? - chestnut feathers gleaming as a beady black eye watched Merlin cautiously, wrinkled neck bobbing. Arthur chuckled, and Merlin's laugh tinkled in the morning air, the bird pecking lightly at Merlin's outstretched palms.

"Mother used to let me feed them." Merlin remembered, and Arthur's chest lifted a little when he heard no trace of sadness in the boy's voice. He hoped the happy memories of this place would outweigh the bad ones, despite how much had now been added to the pile during the small hours of last night. Then- a voice interrupted Arthur's thoughts, making him wrench his gaze off Merlin and stare wide eyed out in front of him.

"You're Hunith's boy, aren't you?"

An old woman was standing out by a battered fence, more brown chickens at her feet, and was smiling at Merlin fondly - but as Arthur stared at her she looked back up to him instead. She had a tattered dark green shawl draped round her shoulders, and one gnarled hand gripped the post of the fence tightly.

"Yeah," Arthur answered, remembering to smile a little. He stepped forward. "Yes, he is- how..?"

"I may be old, boy, but I still remember things." She quirked her eyebrows, and Arthur closed his mouth, rearranging what he was about to say - but the woman had started speaking again before he had the chance. "I knew his father, long time ago." Arthur's chest tightened at her words. He knew practically nothing about Merlin's father, only that he wasn't around, hadn't been for many years, whether this was because he was dead, or not...Arthur didn't know. In the entire time Arthur had known the boy, he hadn't mentioned him once. Arthur had never been brave enough to approach the subject.

"And his mother, for a while. I often saw him running about the place - he always liked the animals." The woman's gaze slid back to where Merlin was crouching down next to the chicken, and Arthur did the same, watching the boy pick little grains of corn off the ground and letting the bird pluck them out of his palm.

Arthur chuckled softly. "Yes- yes, he does.." He stepped forward, clearing his throat. "My name's Arthur." he said, tentatively, not sure if the woman would know who he really was.

She looked up then, nodded, and pierced him with a strange look. Arthur shifted uncomfortably on the balls of his feet, feeling like the woman was picking out his entire history from the contours on his face, and he suddenly felt guilty for a million different things - like he was been weighed up in her eyes and Arthur desperately needed to pass her test.

"Look after him." she said finally, smiling, gesturing with her head to Merlin. Arthur heard the real question in her voice, and he hoped he would prove her right. He straightened his shoulders.

"I will."

He hoped he'd prove them both right.

It stayed like that for just a moment longer than necessary, Arthur holding the woman's gaze as he felt an acknowledgement pass between them, a silent promise and a responsibility he had to prove he could shoulder. Then - it broke, and Arthur turned away from her, ready to make his way back down through the village, speaking quietly to Merlin to make him get up and follow him.

It was a fair few minutes later, walking down the path, that Arthur realised the old woman hadn't said her name.

* * *

The morning was growing old now.

They'd made their way, meandering round rugged houses and fences until they reached the edge where the village met the woods, in the opposite direction that they'd arrived. Arthur twisted round where he stood and tugged gently on Merlin's hand, looking back over his shoulder at the boy. He was met with those blue eyes once again as Merlin turned his head, wide and focused completely on Arthur.

"Come on."

They ran. It wasn't like before, in the depth of the woods at night, trying not to trip up on tree roots and scrambling for their lives...it was different. Not quite the same as chasing the butterflies, but then, that that seemed so long ago now it pained Arthur when he realised that they might never get back to that point. If they could ever really out run this; Merlin's fate, Arthur's responsibilities...all of it, waiting for them still...Arthur would make sure they ran in the wind every day. It was going to catch up with them, there was no question - but Arthur was still willing to hold onto that little bit of hope, or denial...that they could escape it. He kept that thought in his head as they ran; feet pounding against the dusty track to the edge of the village, out and further out until it was just trees, all around them, scattered among the tiny purple flowers.  _Escape_. If they could feel just a little bit of that freedom, just for today, then it would be enough. Arthur figured they needed that.

They dashed around the tree roots, not exactly sure where they were going but simply enjoying the feeling of it - the breeze against Arthur's face, stinging his eyes a little as they cut through the air. Arthur held tight to Merlin's hand, glancing to his side at the boy, watching a grin spread across his face as the blurred green and yellow smudged around the messy black hair. Arthur laughed back at him, hearing the sound get swallowed up by the wind, echoing round his ears then soon being left behind as they ran on. Merlin looked so wild, tousled hair sticking up as the breeze lifted it up off his forehead, out of his eyes that practically sparkled in delight, brighter than Arthur had seen them for a while. He knew he must look no different, but it didn't even occur to him that he should care at all. Not when Merlin was laughing too, a glorious sound that rang through the air around them, tugging at Arthur's heart and the corners of his mouth. Not when Merlin's eyes were crinkling at the edges, not with tears this time but happiness as his smile took over his face. Not when Merlin's hand was there in his, firm and gentle and solid and soft all at the same time.

Arthur couldn't hear himself laugh anymore - the rush of the wind and Merlin's own tinkling sound smothered it before it reached his ears, but he could feel the sound instead; the way it gasped up his throat with his rugged breathing as he ran, the push against his lungs.

And they kept running.

He didn't know exactly where he was taking them, but it didn't matter much. They could have easily run forever, to the bracing soundtrack of the wind rushing past their ears, their laughs getting mixed up with their breathing and just making sure they kept placing one foot in front of the other.

After a while, Arthur stumbled and dug his heels in, pulling them to a stop. They'd seemed to break free of the looming trees, into some sort of clearing with a circle of water stretched beneath the bank, the still surface shining silver like a huge coin someone had dropped in the grass. He glanced to Merlin beside him, both their chests heaving and the sound of them catching their breath the only noise in the quiet of their surroundings. Merlin started to grin at him, his wild eyes glinting cheekily from the water then back to Arthur, his smile transforming his face. Arthur raised his eyebrows.

"Race you." The boy laughed, his taunting words sing-song like.

Arthur chuckled and let go of Merlin's hand to yank his tunic over his head, then to help untangle Merlin from his own, which was just a little too big for him. As soon as he was free, Merlin scrambled forwards, running to the edge of the bank and then he sprang into the air, clutching his knees to his chest and landing with a splash in the water. Arthur laughed, throwing his head back as he watched the boy resurface, thrashing around causing white spray to form in arches around him - then he fell forward into a run and launched himself off the edge after Merlin, splashing in next to him. It was exhilarating; he'd needed that release for a while, and Arthur could already feel relaxation pouring off his skin and down his shoulders as he bathed himself with the cool water, scraping his dripping hair back off his face. Merlin bobbed around next to him, grinning wildly with his own hair plastered to one side of his cheek, and the other side sticking up at a weird angle. Arthur smirked at him. He looked even tinier now, his skinny shoulders shivering where the breeze brushed against his wet skin, his legs kicking madly under the water as he tried to keep himself afloat.

"Again?" Arthur dared, feeling out of breath. Merlin nodded, and then Arthur waded forward in the water to scoop him up, ignoring the shriek Merlin gave out as Arthur wrenched him out of the water into his arms, the glimmering droplets cascading off them both.

"Arthur! Arthur, let me go- aah!" Merlin wriggled in his grasp, giggling and protesting in equal amounts, and another laugh burst out of Arthur. He clambered up the side of the bank and turned round, then broke into another run up to the edge and let go of Merlin at the last second - they soared, just for a few seconds, in mid air, and time seemed to slow as Arthur watched them drift apart with the momentum but then Merlin reached out and clutched Arthur's fore arms right before they plunged into the water. They sunk down beneath the surface, and then everything was pale blue; Arthur tried his best to keep his eyes open, watching Merlin's eyes screw up and his breath bubbling out the corners of his mouth as he beamed in delight...it was eerily quiet under the surface, and Arthur just had time to hear Merlin's muffled laugh resonate around his water-logged ears- and then, suddenly - they both resurfaced - and time swooped back to normal speed in a rush of noise.

Merlin's laugh tinkled through the air, Arthur panting heavily but then his own laugh joined the cacophony of wondrous sounds that had erupted, sudden and such a contrast from the seconds of serenity underneath the surface. Water streamed down his face, droplets spinning off in all directions as Arthur flicked his hair back- and he just caught a glimpse of Merlin with another laugh etched on his face when a huge wave of water hit him, making him flinch back automatically and throw an arm over his eyes.

"Merlin!" Arthur yelped, twisting back round and shoving his own wall of water in the small boy's direction - which he watched, with satisfaction, as it soaked Merlin, plastering that raven hair to his forehead and making his ears seem even more prominent. Arthur burst out laughing, but didn't have long to bathe in his victory as Merlin recovered, and starting splashing even more water his way, sometimes flicking strings of crystal droplets in long arcs, sometimes shoving entire waves as he dug his palms in and pushed. Arthur wasn't going to give up that easily, and he started splashing Merlin back, laughing and recoiling when a load of water flew his way, both of them gasping, still a little out of breath from the jump.

It was beautiful, Arthur would remember later.

But in the moment, he could only concentrate on dodging Merlin's splashes, then soaking the boy in revenge, his own deep laugh accompanying Merlin's musical one, catching glimpses of those blue eyes sparkling in delight and flashes of raven hair amid the white spray of the water that encircled them both.

It was like how they'd been before.

But after a while, they both grew tired, the splashing reduced to a few casual flicks with the tips of their fingers, and then to nothing. In some sort of silent agreement, they waded over to the edge of the bank, heaved themselves up out of the water and flopped down onto the patchwork of grass and moss. Arthur chuckled, his chest rising and falling heavily as he laid on his back, listening to Merlin's breathing next to him. Arthur shuffled over so they could lie in that spot where the sun was beating down on the soft grass, pulling Merlin along with him and let out a long sigh, stretching out his limbs. The grass tickled against his exposed skin underneath him, and his water-logged breeches hung off his thighs uncomfortably but he still let himself relax, allowed his eyes to fall shut, seeing nothing but a pink glow behind his lids and feeling the heat of the midday sun like a blanket on top of him. The little droplets of water cooled him, some evaporating off his tanned skin, some running in little streams down his jaw, down the back of his neck, soaking through his strands of hair by his temples. Arthur didn't think he'd ever felt more at peace. He didn't need to stretch his mind any further than just continuing to breathe.

Arthur lost track of time laying on the grass. When he finally opened his eyes he couldn't tell if he'd had them closed only for a few minutes or if they'd been lying there for hours - but, judging by his damp skin and soaked hair, Arthur assumed it hadn't been much longer than five minutes in reality. It had truly reached midday now, and the glare of the morning rays made Arthur's lids flutter and protest after having them shut, but he soon adjusted and after blinking violently for a couple of seconds he managed to focus enough to take in his surroundings.

If Arthur looked straight upwards, it was just light blue, framed around the edges with reaching leaves and branches and smudged with the occasional cloud. Looking closer to earth, Arthur took in the endless trees that surrounded them, a darker shade of green each metre into the thick of the woods and specks of lilac at the roots. The sun made the green glow around them, and it was something Arthur had never stopped to appreciate before. The way it cast dappled shadows over the ground, over their faces, little specs of dust glinting in the air above them. The leaves; the way they grew lighter, brighter towards the edges where the sun hit them from behind, just like Merlin's blood under his skin last night. Phosphorescent, flushed with that rich colour, vibrant under the sun's steady gaze. Arthur turned his head.

Merlin's mouth was slightly open, like in awe, his small yet deep breaths visible as his chest rose and sunk again. His skin looked white in the light, brilliant and blinding, and for one sudden moment Arthur was convinced the boy was actually glowing - along his thin torso and down his even skinnier arms that were stretching out, tiny fingers latching and weaving between the blades of grass. Merlin's eyes were skyward, and he was smiling, Arthur could tell, even from this angle. Arthur chuckled again, watching the boy's dark eyelashes flick back and forth as he too took in the quiet beauty of their secluded spot. Then, Merlin turned his head towards Arthur, as if he was aware he was being watched, and those cerulean eyes latched onto his own - the suddenness and the intensity of the gaze made Arthur's breath catch in his throat. Merlin's hair was still dripping at the tips, much like Arthur could feel his own doing, clumping together to form a zig-zag pattern across the pale forehead and the promise of curls by his ears where the hair had begun to dry. Merlin blinked at Arthur, flicking little droplets off his long eyelashes to land silently on his cheek.

"You okay?"

Arthur barely raised his voice, not wanting to break the deafening quiet that had enveloped them, and he already knew the answer without having to ask, but he felt as if he should say something never the less. Merlin nodded.

They simply laid like that for a while longer, seconds or minutes...again, Arthur couldn't seem to tell. Then Merlin broke their gaze, his eyes drifting off unfocused and distracted, and he turned his head back so his was staring upwards. Arthur could tell there was something he wanted to say. He spoke after a few more moments of anticipation.

"Can I- will we..." the boy started, and Arthur's gaze snapped back to him, studying his profile carefully, watching his mouth form the words. The boy sighed and seemed to change track. "I didn't mean to do it, Arthur."

Arthur frowned. "I know, I- I know you didn't, Merlin."

"I was just...scared, the- the King, he was...shouting, it was too loud...I wanted to see, that's all - "

Oh, god.

"I could  _hear_ , everything, the girl...I could hear her  _screaming_..."

"Merlin..." Arthur's fingers inched forward through the grass, itching to clasp hold of Merlin's twitching palm. He was shaking, still looking skyward.

"...I found the room, I went in- I saw...Arthur, how-  _how could he_?"

That's when Merlin turned his head, gaze latching back onto Arthur's and it was that, and the way his voice had lowered to practically a whisper that shook Arthur, making goose bumps prickle up all over his exposed skin, his stomach turning to ice. He didn't say anything, only reached forward that little more and took hold of Merlin's hand.

"How  _could_ he?" The boy repeated. "He was going to-  _kill_  the girl, Arthur! I had to...I had to..." Merlin's eyes screwed shut, and Arthur's heart ached when he saw a few fresh tears leak out, dripping down the boy's cheek and joining the other droplets. Arthur took a deep, shuddering breath, squeezing their hands together, tight. God, he hated his father. He could just see it; Merlin bursting into the court room, searching for the owner of the pleading screams, only to find Uther sentencing another sorcerer to death...

...just the way Uther had sentenced Merlin less than an hour later.

"Merlin, I'm so.. _so_ sorry...it's not your fault, you did nothing wrong-"

"She was like me, Arthur."

He drew in a sharp breath. Merlin's eyes had flicked open again, and the way they pierced through Arthur made him shift uncomfortably, like he was searching for answers, an explanation, asking  _why, why was this happening, why hadn't you stopped it?_  Arthur couldn't bring himself to answer those silent questions in Merlin's gaze, and it took all of his effort just to keep the eye contact.

"I could feel it." Merlin murmured. "Feel...her. She was scared, I had...I had to do something, I.."

Arthur gulped, feeling his own tears trailing down his cheekbone, mingling with the droplets of water and dripping off the tip of his nose. He stroked his thumb over the back of Merlin's hand, just like he always did.

"Merlin - listen, no..listen to me, now." Arthur could hear his voice wavering, but he did his best to steady it. "You did,  _nothing,_ wrong, you hear me? Nothing. None of this is your fault, it's mine, I should have done more to- " Arthur cut himself off. Now wasn't the time for wallowing. "You're going to be fine, okay? We'll be just fine."

Merlin blinked, looking disbelievingly across at Arthur, and unhooked his hand from Arthur's grip for a second to wipe the remaining tears and water droplets off his face, then letting it drop back on the grass between them. Arthur followed it's path with his eyes, watching each finger twitch between the blades of grass and noting again how tiny they were compared to Arthur's own. A tiny glimmer of hope seemed to resurface in the oceans swirling in Merlin's eyes.

"I- I haven't ruined everything?" he asked, tentative, voice still barely more than a whisper.

Arthur's dark blond eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but Merlin soon elaborated.

"We can still...do all those things? All those things you told me about?" The boy's eyes widened, worrying his bottom lip once again, and Arthur realised with a tug on his heart what Merlin was talking about. "We can, can't we, Arthur? I can still be your-"

"Protector." Arthur let out a shaky breath. "Merlin...this- is this what you've been worrying about?" He shifted on the grass, pushing himself up to lean on his arms, looking across at the boy. Merlin glanced at him, blue eyes wide, and he nodded.

"You could have died, Merlin, I mean..." Arthur shook his head incredulously, then laughed shakily. After all that had happened...after  _Will_...after everything...

"I just- lord, Merlin...I swear, I don't understand you sometimes."

Merlin sat up himself to sit cross-legged across from Arthur, biting his lip and his hands twitching in his lap. Still those wide, bright blue eyes burned through Arthur's own, and he couldn't think what to say. Their little dream had been the last thing on his mind for days, when preserving Merlin's life had been his priority - and now Arthur considered it, it was like a dead weight in his stomach. Was there anyway, now, that they could still do any of those things? What Arthur had done, such a huge action against his father's orders...he didn't know if Uther still wanted him to become King some day. But then, Uther wouldn't live forever. There was still hope for Arthur rising to the throne, abolishing the ban on magic and securing that future that Merlin was destined for - that he deserved.

Arthur leaned forward, twisting his legs under him so he was more comfortable and faced the boy opposite him, reaching for their discarded tunics a stretch away in a pile on the grass. He fed his arms into the sleeves and pulled his on over his head, then chucked Merlin's blue one into the boy's lap. Merlin smiled a little, scrunching up the fabric round his hands and running his fingers across it.

"So...will we- can we?"

Merlin's voice was small. He kept looking down at his hands, and Arthur watched his dark eyelashes peek out across his cheek from under his curling fringe. Arthur sucked in a long breath, trying to prolong his response by breathing out again as slowly as possible, and made a decision - there was no way he was breaking Merlin's heart again, today, tomorrow, or any other day as much as Arthur could help it.

"Of course we will." He felt surprised at how easily the words came. It wasn't a lie- not really, there was nothing Arthur wanted more than to believe it, for them to get there one day; he prayed that they would, every night, but they weren't quite out of the woods yet. Merlin's head had snapped up at his words, eyes wide, shining and hopefully, and Arthur's heart broke just a little more - but he smiled at the boy, and watched him return it, and thought that he could stay in denial for a little longer, stay dreaming for a bit more.

"Tell me, Arthur...about the- about all those things..."

"Okay, okay..." Arthur tried to steady his voice. "We're going to find somewhere you'll be safe."

Merlin's safety; this was the one thing he knew he couldn't guarantee, but he made the promise anyway. Despite all the odds, because that's what love is. Love is keeping the promise anyway.

"And- and everyone there will love you. You can- you can practice your magic too, learn how to control it and to do all these incredible things..." It was easy now he'd started, Arthur found. He just looked at Merlin's expression, full of wonder and hope at the picture Arthur was creating, and it was the simplest thing in the world to just keep the words flowing.

"...and how to defend yourself so- so no one can hurt you again. And then, someday, we'll go back home, to Camelot...but things will be okay, because I'll be King and I'll be in charge."

"And I'll - I'll have my job, won't I!" Merlin piped up, and Arthur chuckled at the look of glee seeping through his face, wide eyed and bouncing slightly with excitement. "The Royal Court...Court...oh, you say it Arthur, it's- it's not the same if I say it."

Arthur's laugh rang loudly round the clearing, and he could feel himself becoming lightheaded from the sudden changes of emotion, as he struggled to keep up with the little boy in front of him.

"Royal Court Sorcerer." he corrected, smirking. "And you'll have your own chambers, right next door to mine so we can sneak out in the night and go out into the woods, or some nights we'll lay out in the fields and we'll make pictures and stories by joining up the stars-"

"Oh! We can do ours, Arthur! We can do our story!" Merlin cried, his laugh tinkling in the air.

Arthur grinned, then suddenly lurched forwards, grabbing Merlin's pale skinny shoulders and wrestled him into a hug. "The greatest, most amazing story ever-" Arthur yelled, raising his voice over Merlin's infectious giggles as he tried to escape Arthur's strong arms. "- the story of King Arthur Pendragon, and his Sorcerer, Merlin Emrys!"

Merlin yelped out his own cheers from somewhere trapped under Arthur's arm, and then he raised his head from where it was buried in Arthur's chest to look at the prince.

"And they will be the most...best-est ever!" Merlin cried out, his eyes gleaming.

Roaring with laughter, Arthur reached up a hand to muss up the boy's tousled, still slightly damp hair and grinned wildly when Merlin grumbled.

"Yes, Merlin..." Arthur couldn't stop smiling. "They will be the most, bestest ever."


End file.
